


#45 Hegal Place

by admiralty, DanaScullyMakesMeFeelAutopsyTurvy



Series: Kevin & Devin [1]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode: s01e11 Eve, Episode: s02e08 One Breath, Episode: s02e25 Anasazi, Episode: s05e18 The Pine Bluff Variant, Episode: s06e04-05 Dreamland, Episode: s06e14 Monday, Episode: s07e17 All Things, Episode: s08e01 Within, Gen, Humor, MSR, Movie: The X-Files: Fight the Future (1998), POV Outsider, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s05e01-02 Redux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24361885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/admiralty/pseuds/admiralty, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanaScullyMakesMeFeelAutopsyTurvy/pseuds/DanaScullyMakesMeFeelAutopsyTurvy
Summary: *There was something going on between these two, or else there was something not going on, when there clearly ought to be.*There’s never a dull moment when your neighbor is Special Agent Fox Mulder.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Series: Kevin & Devin [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2066385
Comments: 215
Kudos: 266





	1. Einstein

**Author's Note:**

> This idea originated with a conversation on the X-Files Diaries podcast Annie had with Jessica (of Television Without Pity fame) in which we reflected upon how interesting a time Mulder’s neighbors must have had in his apartment building. It then became a Drabble idea for the #XFThirdPartyChallenge. When Fiona hopped onboard, we quickly realized it was going to evolve into something much, much longer.
> 
> Happily, it turned into this. 
> 
> Huge thanks to our fab betas: Nicole, Monika, Kasey, Cathy and Leo.

**November 1993**

Mulder watched Ellen Reardon tear the photograph with steady hands and coolly discard eight year old Cindy’s image into the fire. The glossy coating bubbled as the paper twisted and melted amidst the searing flames. To his left, he saw Scully take a deep breath, heard her swallow hard. Neither of them said anything beyond the necessary pleasantries, making their excuses as they awkwardly vacated the Reardon household for the final time.

Scully carefully navigated the steps down from the porch and cut across the lawn with a slow, defeated gait. Mulder headed to the driver side door without discussion. 

He broke the silence as they headed towards the airport.

“She seemed awfully quick to dismiss the daughter she loved and raised for eight years, don’t you think?”

Scully dragged her eyes away from the hundred yard stare that had heretofore been aimed out of the passenger window, her elbow neatly tucked onto the door ledge. She turned her face towards him, thoughtfully slow, her pouted lips peeling away from the forefinger that had been pressed against them. She sighed and shrugged. 

“Grief can manifest in a lot of different ways, Mulder. She’s still processing everything. She just found out her own child murdered her husband. We don’t know what she’s feeling.”

Mulder nodded regretfully. Scully returned her gaze to the passing view, crooking her finger beneath her nose now. The pout returned. Mulder knew this meant she was mulling something over. 

“You ever think about having kids, Mulder?”

This was so unexpected he laughed. Not a loud laugh but an airy, shocked chuff. He did a double take to check whether or not she was serious. She turned to consider him again, her face calm, her eyes steady. She _was_ serious. His cheeks rounded as he attempted to form a response.

“No, I can’t say I _have_ ever thought about it, Scully. To be honest I don’t even know if I could keep a pet alive. I think it helps to pass that test first before you consider being responsible for other humans.”

They drove the rest of the way to the airport without speaking. It didn’t even occur to him to ask if she ever thought about the subject herself.

  
  
  
  


**December, 1993**

Mulder surreptitiously watched Scully slide the last of her papers into her briefcase and clip it shut. She lifted her winter coat over her shoulders, letting it hang open over her skirt suit as he busied himself peering at a set of negatives through a loupe.

“You going to be at home in a couple hours Mulder? I wanted to swing by. I, ah, I have a little something for you.”

He looked up from his light box with some surprise.

“A gift? For me?”

“Yeah,” Scully answered, letting out a shallow breath, her eyes darting off to the side, her chin tilting up. She fingered a coat button at her waist.

“A couple hours? Better give me three,” Mulder hedged, thinking of the places that might possibly be open past five p.m. on a Thursday night two days before Christmas, and where he could buy a suitable festive offering for Scully.

Some time later, he’d just finished hastily wrapping the best thing he’d been able to find at such short notice when he heard a soft knock at his apartment door. He tugged it open, still holding the scissors in one hand. Scully stood in the hallway with her arms behind her back and a slightly self-conscious look on her face.

“Come on in,” he motioned to her. “This is all very mysterious.” 

Scully quirked a playful eyebrow at him as she stepped inside, crab-walking into the living room with her back turned away from him to keep the contents of her hands concealed. 

“I didn’t wrap it,” she said, apologetically. She stood still, hesitating.

“That’s okay, Scully, I’ll let you make it up to me somehow.”

She stared at him for a few seconds then shook her head a little, seeming to remember why she had come. She pulled her right hand out from behind her hip and presented him with an empty glass bowl. He nodded in thanks, but couldn’t conceal the confusion that played across his brow. 

“And, ah, this,” she added, producing a clear plastic bag filled with water, clutched in her left fist. In the center of the turgid offering floated a bright orange goldfish; its tail twitching from side to side, its mouth lazily bobbing open and shut. He took it and lifted it up to better catch the light.

“Carnival in town?” he joked, grinning. “How many targets did you have to shoot down to win this for me, Scully? Isn’t it cheating if you have a firearms certificate?”

She smiled back.

“It’s so you can practice keeping something alive. Pass your test before you consider any…. further responsibilities.”

Was she blushing, he wondered? He couldn’t properly tell because she hid her face from his peering gaze almost immediately, looking down as she reached into her overcoat pockets. She lifted out some fish flakes, a bag of brightly colored pebbles, and a slim paperback entitled _Practical Fishkeeping: A Beginner’s Guide_.

She rested the last of his gifts down on the coffee table and looked up at him with an awkward, tight little smirk. He stood there balancing the fish and the bowl, just holding her gaze and smiling. She blinked and looked down at the empty glass orb, suddenly reaching out to take it back. 

“Let me fill this up for you,” she offered, swiftly walking off through the dining room and into the kitchen. He followed. 

At the sink, she placed the bowl down and turned on the cold water. She motioned for him to come closer. 

“The guy at the pet store said you’re supposed to half fill it with new water, and the other half with the water from the bag. But you should let this get to room temperature first, then float the baggie in it for a while before making the transfer.” 

Scully shut off the faucet and lifted the bowl from the sink, the water gently swishing from side to side. She slid it towards the back of the kitchen counter, next to the knife block, and reached out to take the bag from Mulder’s grip, gently placing it where the bowl had just been sitting. She reached up to tear some paper towels off the roll that was suspended under the cupboards, wiping up a few drops that had escaped, then padded the damp sheets together and turned to toss them into the trash can.

Mulder watched this whole domestic performance with quiet awe. The way Scully moved about his kitchen with ease, confidently knowing where things belonged and happy to take charge of them, pleased him greatly. It made him feel more at home than he’d ever felt while alone in his own space.

He realized he was staring at her. Scully took a deep breath and looked away, her eyes skipping past him into the next room, drawn to the lumpy package sitting on the dining table. It was gift-wrapped in cheap, gaudy paper featuring snowmen dancing _pas de deux_ with eerily satanic elves: the only roll they’d had left at the gas station where he’d stopped in desperation.

“Is that for me?” she queried, gently.

“Oh, yeah,” he confirmed, dashing over to pick it up. He held it out for her to take, and she thanked him as she did, tucking it under her arm.

“You’re not going to open it?” he asked.

“It’s not Christmas yet, Mulder,” she said, teasingly. “I’ll take it to my parents’ house and put it under the tree to open Christmas morning.”

“But I opened mine,” he countered. His mind flashed to the image of Scully unwrapping his gift in front of her parents and siblings before Christmas Day Mass. It was a wall mounted key rack topped by a cat figurine with beady little humanoid eyes banded across its face. He'd panic-bought it at the gas station car wash gift shop. Women liked cats, right? He cringed, second-guessing his hasty decision, but it was too late now. 

“It’s a fish, Mulder. I couldn’t wrap a fish.”

“Okay,” he relented, regretfully. Scully’s family were going to think he was such an ass.

“Anyway, I should get going,” she said with a sigh. “My sister just told me my little brother announced he’s not coming home for the holidays. She’s working on him but I gotta call my mom and talk her off a ledge just in case.”

He nodded. Began walking her to the door. As he pulled it open for her he reached out two fingers and a thumb, gently tugging at the sleeve of her coat. She hadn’t even taken it off. She looked back at him.

“Thanks for the gift, Scully. It’ll be nice to have some company at home as well as in the office now.” 

Scully smiled shyly, stepping into the hallway. 

They both looked up at the sound of the elevator doors opening at the other end of the hallway. Three men stepped out and approached the apartment directly opposite Mulder’s.

Number forty-five. It had been unoccupied for weeks. 

They made for an odd trio: Mulder’s balding African American building manager in a folksy blue checked shirt, starting up what sounded like sales patter as he fiddled with the lock; a tall, white, clean shaven formal type with a vaguely unnerved expression, a fussy silk tie and nary a hair out of place, and a cherubic Asian American man whose only facial definition was provided by a thin line of beard along his jawline, dressed down in a chunky woollen sweater and cargo pants. The latter two waited patiently as the key proved sticky and awkward to turn, the super rattling the handle with some frustration. They turned their faces in languid unison to return Mulder and Scully’s curious gazes. 

The taller man nodded upwards briefly in greeting, his silvered coif catching the light from the overhead bulbs. First Mulder, then Scully, returned the gesture with polite smiles and nods of their own, and the shorter man grinned, the rounded apples of his cheeks shining as he tilted his head downwards, looking directly at Mulder for a few seconds through notably long eyelashes.

The super got the door open, disappearing inside as he announced that the unit was available immediately, but fussy tie and chunky sweater lingered for a moment in the hallway, their eyes roaming over the length of Scully. Or Mulder. Or perhaps both. After a few seconds, the taller man, the one with the greying hair, softly reached for the elbow of his companion, looping his arm around the crook of it and tugging him through the open door, leading the way.

Just before he vanished from sight, the younger man lifted his hand and fluttered his fingers in their direction, mouthing but not verbalizing a quick, flirtatious “’bye.” 

Mulder and Scully looked at one another in amused bewilderment. Scully raised her eyebrows and tilted her chin. 

“New neighbors, huh?” Her eyes sparkled momentarily. 

Mulder nodded, commenting, “Guess so,” while emitting a breathy chuckle. 

They moved on.

She shoved her hands deep into her pockets, her left elbow squeezing her present against her ribs. “Okay, well, you should avoid feeding the fish for the first twenty-four hours while it settles in. And keep the lights dim.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” he grinned.

Scully looked at him a bit playfully. “So… are you gonna give it a name?”

The thought hadn’t crossed his mind. He felt a bit put on the spot. “Well, I don’t know Scully,” he hedged. “I’ll have to give it some consideration. Naming is a very important part of the pet keeping process.”

Scully’s eyes danced with the matching grin she was only half suppressing. After a beat, she spoke. “You can do it, Mulder, I believe in you.”

He bowed his head in gratitude, his hand gliding down the edge of the door. 

Scully allowed herself to give him a satisfied smile, then turned on one heel and swept down the hall. At the elevator, she pushed the button before turning back. 

“Merry Christmas, Mulder,” she offered, with a shy smile.

“Merry Christmas, Scully,” he said in a low voice, leaning into the doorframe.

Well past midnight, Mulder reached the final page of the fishkeeping manual and closed the book. He reached over and placed it on the coffee table, turning onto his side ready for sleep. He lifted his head one last time, watching the little orange molly now happily exploring the confines of its bowl on top of the chest of drawers in the apartment entryway.

“Hey, Einstein,” he murmured into the gloom. “What do you say we get you a partner?”

  
  



	2. Red Snapper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin Cargill and Devin Li move into Hegal Place, where certain occupants capture their attention.

  
  


**January, 1994**

Kevin Cargill carried the last of the moving boxes in from the hallway, nudging the apartment door closed with his hip. The unit came furnished, an easier option than moving his grandmother’s hand-me-down furniture from his one bedroom place in Chicago, so he’d dumped the tattered mid-century modern pieces, packed up his clothes and other essentials and driven his newly-leased Corolla cross-country with his partner of not quite two years, partly for the transitional feel of a road trip. It was a new era. A step into real adulthood for them both.

He was about to turn thirty-one. He had a new job working for the Government, a low-level assistant position in a backwater department that he was technically over-qualified for, with his law degree and his clerkship for Justice Clarence Thomas. His mother had taken to telling people he was going to be working at the White House, and he was too exhausted from years of this sort of behavior to correct her more than twice. His boyfriend Devin had left his job copyediting theatre reviews for the Chicago Reader, hoping to find employment in the D.C. area that might indulge his inclination for deep dive investigative journalism.

Kevin placed the box in the corner of the living room and dusted off his dress pants beneath his wool winter coat.

“You know, a normal person would wear sweats to move boxes,” came a teasing voice from the kitchen doorway. Kevin turned to see Devin, a rotund man-child with a gum drop grin, pulling lazily at the braided scarlet licorice caught between his teeth and leaning against the doorframe with jaunty insouciance. Although twenty-five, he had the vague aura of an overgrown toddler, with smears of powdery grime marking the rumpled T-shirt that pulled up at the front to reveal his slightly protruding belly.

“I have suits, and I have pajamas, as you know, darling,” Kevin said, rearranging a pile of smaller boxes needlessly. A hint of a British accent still lingered from his early familial upbringing in London. “I’m not about to wander the hallways and meet all our new neighbors in satin and silk.”

“Not even the Armani?” Devin suggested. “Pink is one of your best colors.”

“Well, _I_ know that, dear,” Kevin said, walking towards the kitchen and resting his arms around Devin’s soft hips. “But I’m not sure the other residents of 2630 Hegal Place can handle quite that much information about me at this stage.”

“Well, it’s a shame,” Devin said, the candy sweetness of his breath playing on Kevin’s face as the taller man peered softly down at his lover’s slightly grubby right temple. “They make your butt look real cute.”

Kevin tilted his head in mock cocky acknowledgment and landed a peck on his boyfriend’s cheek, avoiding the smears of moving day detritus, before grabbing the half eaten Twizzler out of Devin’s hand and whipping away towards the apartment door. 

“Hey!” Devin protested, his face going pouty, his eyes twinkling.

“I need to grab my garment bag out of the car, did you have anything else in there?” Kevin called back over his shoulder.

“No, I’m all set,” Devin tossed off as he reached for the bulk-buy tub of Twizzlers on top of the fridge. “Love you, honey, thank you.”

“Love you too.” 

Kevin pulled the apartment door shut behind him.

Down in the parking lot behind the building, he retrieved his collection of smartest suits, the ones his mother had gotten tailored for him at the fancy department store for his thirtieth birthday. He hung them over the open car door as he gathered the few fast food wrappers and cups Devin had left scattered about the car, tucking them into a McDonald’s paper bag he found crumpled up beneath the passenger seat. The nimbostratus stretched to all horizons, pressing down on him like a tropospheric sigh as he swept a few stray crumbs out onto the frozen asphalt. His breath formed vanishing vapor clouds as he locked up the Toyota and walked around to the street entrance.

Approaching the front doors, he heard the unmistakable click of high heels ascending the stone steps behind him. Pulling the door towards himself, he swung back out of the way to hold it open and allow whomever was behind him to enter first. 

As he looked back, he saw it was the woman he and Devin had greeted briefly in the hallway on the evening they’d come to view the apartment. They’d been flustered and tired from their rushed pre-Christmas search for a suitable new home, having flown east for a mere twenty-four hours to check out the options after Kevin’s new boss announced he was required to start right after the holidays. But Kevin distinctly remembered this woman. The compact frame drowning in an outsized overcoat, all sharp corners and shoulder pads. The side-parted auburn bob with swept-up bangs. 

The insanely hot guy with the hard pecs in the gray T-shirt towering over her in the doorway. 

_Ah yes_ , there was probably a reason the image of this serious little lady had been seared into his memory.

He smiled at her, and bobbed his head in greeting as she reached the top step and half-jogged through the open door. “Thanks,” she said, throwing him an efficient smile that didn’t reach her eyes as she clacked off towards the elevator. She didn’t look like she wanted to get into an introductory conversation, so Kevin took the stairs to avoid an awkward ride up.

Pushing open the door to the fourth floor with his McDonald’s-bag hand, he saw they’d arrived at exactly the same time. The woman caught his eye and pulled her lips into a somewhat regretful second smile as she passed him. 

“Hi again,” Kevin said, and she swept past with no malice but no real warmth either, pacing down the corridor with a purposeful stride, her head bowed. She got to the hot guy’s door and rapped on it sharply with petite knuckles. 

Kevin approached his own apartment, immediately across the hall from where she was standing, and pushed on the door, but apparently it had locked behind him. He transferred the makeshift trash bag to the hand holding his suits, slung back over his shoulder, and dug in his pocket for his keys. He found the newest addition to the ring and slid it into the lock, jiggling it from side to side. It wouldn’t budge. He became aware of the woman, still waiting just inches behind him -- so close he could feel the warmth of her body heat -- turning her head to look at him.

He threw her a reassuring, amused glance, and resumed his efforts, adjusting the key forwards and back by increments, trying to get the grooves to line up. She had a nice face, pale and pretty -- Irish Catholic, he’d guess -- but not necessarily friendly. She held her shoulders back and her chin high; looked capable and no-nonsense. Not like the sort of person who’d get stuck outside her own apartment, embarrassing herself in front of a stranger. 

Hot guy’s apartment door opened inwards, and Kevin caught the woman’s eye one last time as she gave him a sympathetic glance, disappearing inside. Just as she did, the key in his hand pulled abruptly away from him as Devin opened the door from the inside.

“Everything okay?”

“Fine,” Kevin said, rolling his eyes at himself as he entered the apartment once more and gently kicked the door closed with one foot. “Hey, you know who I just saw?”

Devin opened his eyes wide, his deep brown irises reflecting the light from the standard lamp in the corner. “George Stephanopoulos?”

“Alas, no,” Kevin conceded, draping the garment bag over the end of the couch. “The woman from the hallway, you know, the night we first saw this place?”

“The tiny little redhead?” Devin asked, turning from his journey back into the kitchen, suddenly very interested in this piece of news. His eyes shone as he continued. “Was she going to Mr. Mulder’s apartment?”

“What? Who?” 

“Number forty-two. Mulder. Name’s on the mailbox in the lobby. I just… happened to notice.”

Kevin raised a silver eyebrow. Devin often had a way of happening to find out information about attractive, taller, older men. 

“Okay, Bob Woodward. Yes, she was going into his apartment,” Kevin answered in a guarded tone.

Devin appeared to note the slight change in his boyfriend’s demeanor and sauntered across the living room towards him. He slipped his arms around Kevin’s waist and looked up at him flirtatiously.

“Don’t worry, honey,” he offered as reassurance. “I’ve already got my sexy man in D.C.” He pressed his mouth up into Kevin’s, and their combined stubble scratched at their chins. As their kiss reached its natural conclusion, Devin reached up and undid Kevin’s overcoat buttons, slipping the heavy jacket backwards down the taller man’s well-toned arms. “And anyway, I’m much more of a Carl Bernstein,” he said playfully as he tossed the jacket over the edge of the couch on top of the suits. Kevin made a mental note to retrieve it and hang it up at the first opportunity.

“I wonder if she lives there too,” Devin murmured, looking up into thin air and placing a hand on his hip.

“No, she was knocking.” Kevin offered.

“Huh. Do you think they’re dating?” 

Kevin pondered this. “Hmm, she looked very… official. Maybe she’s his accountant or something.”

“Leaving his apartment late at night just before Christmas? What, you think maybe he had a holiday tax emergency?” Devin was grinning knowingly.

Kevin shrugged, and Devin asked if he was okay with chicken for dinner. He nodded his approval.

“So, Mr. Mulder, huh?” Kevin mused aloud, gathering his suits and overcoat to put them away in the closet.

Devin looked back and winked just as he rounded out of sight into the kitchen. “More like Mr. _Smolder_ , I say.”

  
  
  
  



	3. Going Fishing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smolder gets a visitor. Tiny Little Redhead gets a name.

  
  


**November, 1994**

A gentle breeze blew across the Potomac and tousled tendrils of Devin’s soft chestnut mane loose, sending them tumbling over his brow. He was overdue for a haircut, he was reminded, as several strands tickled his forehead and swept into his eyes. He and Kevin were enjoying a lazy postprandial, strolling hand in hand along the waterfront. The weather was unseasonably warm, and the occasional opportunistic cyclist whizzed past the pair as they navigated a section of the Mount Vernon trail, wending their way along the river from Old Town towards the Woodrow Wilson Bridge.

It was Kevin’s birthday, and he’d managed to finagle the day off, making a long weekend of it. They had enjoyed what was technically a working lunch, with Devin now several months into a gig writing restaurant reviews for the Alexandria Times. Kevin had suggested an aimless wander to aid digestion of their large portions of steak and accompanying _frites_ from the recently renovated French bistro Devin had been sent to assess. Being paid to eat _and_ to pronounce his often snarky judgements to the -- admittedly only local-- masses was the perfect job for Devin, Kevin had teased his boyfriend more than once, despite Devin’s oft-made protests that this was merely a stop-gap while he awaited his true calling of investigative journalism and subsequent world domination. 

They had left their jackets in the car due to the stubborn afternoon sunshine, but as the afternoon crept towards evening, November nipped at their skin through thin cotton and synthetic blends. They turned back and walked north, heading for coffee in a quaint patisserie they had noted upon passing earlier. Devin’s free palm rested on the gently rounded swell of his stomach as it gurgled happily. 

Kevin smoothed down his tie and returned his hand to his pocket, sighing contentedly, a falling melody to accompany the percussive clanking of rigging smacking against swaying masts. Choppy waves slapped into fibreglass hulls and wooden jetties, a syncopated bass line thwack. Herring gulls squawked a discordant counterpoint overhead. “Can you believe we’ve lived here a year already?” he mused.

“What? No.” Devin was aghast, doing mental calculations, reaching back into his memory. “Oh my god, you’re right,” he concurred, shaking his head in disbelief. “Where does the time go?”

“The days are long, but the years are short.” Kevin murmured, squeezing Devin’s hand in his own.

Devin regarded Kevin’s sculpted jaw and the patrician contours of his profile, pondering this pearl of birthday wisdom. He nodded thoughtfully, and was reminded of falling in love with Kevin for the first time, on another walk along another waterfront, in early spring on the westernmost shores of Lake Michigan. 

Later, pulling up in the rear parking lot at Hegal Place, Kevin shifted the gear stick into park and gestured ahead of them with his chin. “Oh look,” he observed. “It’s Tiny Little Redhead.”

Devin snapped his head in the direction indicated and tilted it to one side. “She’s a lot more dressed down than usual.”

He had a point. They had each only ever seen their neighbor’s occasional diminutive visitor in office-worthy attire: sludge-hued plain skirt suits one size too roomy, neat little blouses that looked like someone’s mother had picked them out, and sensible heels suited to office drudgery. Her hair was typically tamed into an officious, joyless blow-dry, looking ever-ready for an unexpected court appearance or an unscheduled meeting with a boss’s boss. 

Tonight, her fox-toned bob seemed longer, and curled softly, prettily down her neck onto her shoulders, half of it swept up and clipped at the back of her head. She wore an ankle-length floral dress under a cedar-brown cable knit cardigan, her cuban heeled lace-ups sending soft footsteps echoing off the brickwork. 

“Does she seem taller to you?” Devin asked, as they unbuckled their seatbelts. 

By the time they made it to the lobby, she was gone, and they waited a few moments for the elevator to return to ground level. 

“Do you think it was even her?” Devin asked as they stepped in. “Maybe it wasn’t her.” He fiddled with his lower lip, twisting it like putty between his thumb and forefinger.

Kevin looked across at him, slightly bemused, as if he had forgotten who they were talking about.

“I haven’t seen her for a while. Have you seen her?” Devin continued. “I can’t even remember the last time I saw her.”

“I haven’t really been paying attention, darling.” Kevin answered, looking up at the display above the doors as it counted up to their floor.

Devin had been paying attention, especially because he had yet to pin down this seldom observed and maddeningly ambiguous relationship. He had witnessed the woman arriving at and leaving from their neighbor’s abode a few times over the past year, often at strangely intimate times of the early morning and late evening, but now that he considered it, her demure presence had been absent since the early summer. He frowned. 

“Do you think she really is Mr. Smolder’s girlfriend?” he wondered aloud. “Hmm. She never comes over _dressed_ like a girlfriend. Except today, if that _is_ her…” His voice trailed off as the doors pinged open. 

Kevin fumbled with the keys, tutting as the mechanism refused to turn on the first several tries. He huffed and looked up in frustration, only to find Devin lingering impolitely close to the door of number forty-two.

“Dev!” he exclaimed under his breath. 

“Kev!” Devin mimicked, splaying his hand across his chest in mock horror as he looked back. Then, seriously: “Shhh, I’m trying to hear if she’s in there.” 

Kevin rolled his eyes and returned his focus to the lock, finally getting the key to turn. He pushed the door open and looked back at Devin pointedly. Devin had moved even closer to the door on the other side of the hall. “Huh,” he said, pointing at the number on the door. “The two is missing.”

Kevin looked back at him quizzically. Devin began to offer further explanation. “It should be forty-two, but it says-” but then he held up his hand to halt the conversation as the sound of raised voices drifted into the hallway.

 _“Enough!_ ” came Mr. Mulder’s raspy baritone.

This was followed by a few mumbled sounds too muted to decipher, before a woman’s voice rang out in admonishment.

 _“You know, just because it’s positive and good doesn’t make it silly or trite…_ ” they heard, before her words dimmed again in volume. 

Devin stepped in closer, straining to hear, his ear canal now a hair’s breadth away from making contact with the door itself. Just then, they heard the sound of someone abruptly grabbing the door handle from the inside, and Devin darted back towards Kevin, his eyes wide with panic at the prospect of being caught eavesdropping. They bundled together into their apartment, slamming the door behind them just as they heard high heels storming righteously past. 

Kevin loosened the windsor knot at his Adam’s apple, leaning one hand on the wall for support as he attempted to slow his racing pulse. Devin vanished into the kitchen momentarily, reappearing with a half-filled trash bag and a determined expression, tying the handles as he walked towards Kevin in the entryway.

“What are you doing?” Kevin demanded, back on high alert.

“Taking the trash out,” Devin shot back with breathless nonchalance as he yanked the door open once again and rushed towards the stairwell. 

He took the steps two and three at a time, racing to beat the elevator. There was a garbage disposal chute at the other end of the fourth floor hall, past Smolder’s apartment, but he was heading directly for the outside dumpster, desperate to gather any more information he could on this visit -- and on the visitor in particular. 

His haste paid off: he burst into the lobby just as the elevator doors slid back. Trying to conceal his stairway-induced panting, he locked eyes with the inhabitant as she looked up and stepped out onto the vestibule tiles. Devin saw right away that this was not Tiny Little Redhead at all. It was a slightly less tiny redhead. The black choker at the base of her throat was the antithesis of the shorter woman’s staid attire, although she had many similar qualities. Pale, freckled skin. Marble-blue irises. Deep auburn locks. Lips like a recently plumped pillow. A vaguely pissed off air. 

Number forty-two clearly had a type. 

Her cheeks looked flushed with the anger they’d overheard upstairs, but she was polite enough to direct a greeting at her unexpected lobby companion. “Hi,” she said perfunctorily, and beat him to the heavy front door, holding it open with a general aura of impatience so that Devin slipped through, skipping a chivalrous protest. He had wanted to follow her, hoping to gather more clues as to her purpose at Hegal Place, but was forced to walk ahead, rounding the corner towards the dumpster as he heard her approach and climb into a car on the side street. The engine revved to life and she roared off into the sparse Monday night traffic.

Devin rode the elevator back up empty-handed. As he exited, Mr. Mulder stepped in wearing a sad little windbreaker in bottle green over a powder blue shirt open at the collar. Devin had only laid eyes on his neighbor a few times, but his towering well-defined form, thick dark hair and hazel puppy dog eyes were permanently imprinted on his brain, stored there for reasons of salacious appreciation. Tonight, he looked utterly dejected, not even acknowledging Devin’s presence as he pressed the button for the ground floor, looking every inch like he was setting off for his own funeral.

Kevin had left the apartment door slightly ajar, and Devin pushed it open, softly closing it behind him as he peered into the living room. Kevin was folding an errant blanket and draping it over the arm of the couch.

“It wasn’t her,” Devin shrugged. He sighed, not certain why he felt so dispirited. “Smolder’s heading out,” he added, as an afterthought.

Kevin nodded with only minor interest. “Cake?” he suggested, and Devin perked up at the prospect. 

  
  


*******

  
  


Following the consumption of two -- and maybe for Devin, an extra half -- generous slices, Kevin was loading coffee cups and cake plates and forks into the dishwasher. _I’ll allow you the pleasure of clearing up, seeing as it’s your birthday,_ Devin had grinned. Kevin slotted the last piece of crockery into a snug corner and fetched detergent from beneath the sink. As he pressed the switch to run the machine, he heard his name being called from the direction of the living room. 

When he walked into the open space, he saw that Devin had vacated his habitual spot lounging on the couch. 

“Over here,” whispered Devin, and Kevin looked over to see him with his ear pressed against the dining room wall that adjoined the hallway. He waved his arm, beckoning Kevin over, but didn’t move his head from what looked like quite an uncomfortable position, his neck craning sideways.

“What’s happening?” Kevin asked, at a perfectly reasonable volume. 

“Keep it down, will you?” Devin hushed him. “Listen.” He motioned for Kevin to place his ear where his own had just been. 

Kevin obeyed, only a little exasperated. “What am I listening for?”

“Scuffling? A fist fight maybe? I heard banging and... rustling.” 

Kevin shook his head, indicating that he heard nothing, until the sound of footsteps reverberated along the corridor outside. He pointed to the front door, and Devin, picking up on his meaning, raced to peer through the peephole.

“ _Dammit_!” he remarked as the footsteps faded out of earshot. “Didn’t see anything.”

Kevin shrugged apologetically.

“Hold on,” Devin said, interrupting Kevin’s walk back to the sofa. “Didn’t that sound like it was coming from Smolder’s apartment?”

“I guess,” Kevin frowned, wondering where this was going.

“I haven’t heard him come back, have you?”

“No, but maybe he was quiet.”

“No,” Devin insisted. “I haven’t heard the elevator doors at all. He usually takes the elevator.”

Kevin raised an accusatory eyebrow that Devin ignored.

“I’m going to take a look,” Devin announced, swinging open the door before Kevin could protest. He checked both ways before boldly approaching the door of number forty-two. 

“Devin, this is none of our business,” Kevin pleaded, hanging back within the entryway but leaning forward to watch. Devin shot him a look of utter contempt. The words _none of our business_ simply weren’t in his vocabulary.

“It’s open,” Devin said, turning back to look at Kevin with surprise. He returned his attention to his mission and knocked softly on the wood. “Mr. Mulder?” he called, tentatively. “Are you in there?”

Nothing.

He pushed the door open a few inches further, and his jaw dropped.

“It’s been ransacked,” he said with barely suppressed glee. “Looks like a break in.” 

This didn’t seem to hit Devin in the same way that it did Kevin, who wasn’t quite so delighted by the idea of one of their immediate neighbors being burglarized. His head ticked backwards, his eyes nervously grazing over all the dark corners of their apartment.

Reassured, with intrigue now battling his trepidation, Kevin crept into the hallway and took a couple of tentative steps towards Devin. There was a click behind him and when he turned around, he saw their door had swung completely shut.

Devin looked over his shoulder. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you grabbed the key, is there?” he queried in a weary voice, although they both already knew the answer. Kevin grimaced.

Devin sighed and nodded to himself. Then, brightening: “No problem,” he said, bustling off towards the end of the corridor. “I’ll fetch the super. He should know about this little situation anyway.”

Awaiting rescue, Kevin leaned against the wall by their apartment, afraid to get too close to Mr. Mulder’s open door. There might even still be a perpetrator inside, and he didn’t want to risk surprising anyone. Before long, Devin returned with the building manager in tow.

The superintendent was well-fed and garrulous, with a mustache that looked oddly too small for his rounded face. His nails were long and caked with an oily grime that penetrated the cuticles. He was the kind of man Kevin couldn’t imagine wearing anything other than overalls, despite having actually seen the man sporting other garments on more than one occasion. He seemed a fellow born for a life of fixing things that made you filthy. Kevin kept his distance, anxious about getting any residual dirt on his birthday lunch outfit. Devin was chatting to him like they were old friends.

“You know much about Mr. Mulder?” he inquired in an offhand manner that Kevin knew for a fact was put on. He’d been witness to his partner’s ‘investigations’ enough times to recognize it.

“Not much,” the super sniffed, arriving at the door to number “4” and leaning one elbow against the doorframe, casually surveying the chaos inside as he answered. “Keeps to himself. He’s lived here maybe six, seven years. Some kind of Special Agent over at the FBI. Single, it seems. When he’s out of town on cases I feed his fish for him. Pipe under the sink has a leaky seal that needs replacing. I’m waiting on a part from Mexico. I keep offering to throw a lick of new paint on the place, but...” 

The super had a knack for talking, which was one thing they’d learned about him since they’d moved in. The only thing they’d learned, in fact, as his ramblings never included any mention of his own name, and any desire to know it was always overshadowed by their desire to end the conversation. 

His commentary had apparently strayed into territory Devin wasn’t so interested in, so he brought the discussion back to the matter at hand. “So, what are you going to do about the break in?” he asked.

The super scratched his jaw contemplatively. “I’ll try him on his cell,” he said, pulling the door closed on the scene inside. “Let him decide if he wants to call the police. Let’s not disturb the crime scene.” Kevin wanted to protest that by touching the door, the super and Devin already had, but it was too late anyway, and he was keen to get back into their own home, especially if someone inside Mr. Mulder’s place was awaiting a chance to escape. He didn’t want anyone to panic and burst out while they were still in the corridor.

“So, do you have our key?” Kevin nudged. The manager sorted through an excessively populated ring of keys, strolled over to their door and opened it without fanfare, infuriatingly, on the first try. 

“Thank you.” Kevin said. Devin was still regarding Mr. Mulder’s closed door with curiosity.

“Any time,” the super drawled, coughing loudly, and was gone.

Back inside, Devin floated into the heart of the apartment with glazed over eyes, nodding to himself.

“So, the FBI, huh?” Kevin ventured, knowing exactly what would capture his boyfriend’s attention.

As suspected, Devin immediately met his gaze. “Yes,” he said lustily. “ _Agent_ Smolder.”

Kevin smiled and shook his head in amused reproach. “The super said he’s single though, so that’s a no on your girlfriend theory.”

“I wonder if he’s gay?” Devin offered hopefully. 

Kevin looked up, pondering this. “He does look like he works out,” he began, “but I don’t know, all these women visiting his apartment.”

“Two.” Devin asserted. “Two women. In a year.”

“Well there’s your big story to crack wide open,” Kevin deadpanned, and Devin smiled mysteriously. 

  
  


*******

  
  


The next morning, Kevin awoke early, planning to go to the polls before work then into the office to get a head start on anything that might have gone amiss in his short absence. He made his customary egg-white omelette and ate it with dry toast in the living room while watching CNN pundits on mute, so as not to wake Devin. Clinton’s election had been a joyous occasion two years earlier, but things weren’t looking good for Congress. 

Before he left he stuck a note to the fridge using a magnetic picture frame featuring a photograph of the two of them shortly after they’d met. _Midterms today._ It read. _Go vote._

Checking his appearance in the hallway mirror, he felt calmed by the soft tweeting of the Virginia morning chorus. White-throated sparrows and dark-eyed juncos gently coaxed the sun over the horizon, and he felt a surge of confidence for the election results.

Donning his light overcoat, Kevin became aware of movement on the other side of the wall: a slow shuffle along the tiling outside. He waited with his hand on the knob until he heard a door softly open and close. 

He stepped out into the hallway, checking his pocket for his keys before pulling his own door shut. He was about to head on his way, but held himself back. He was fairly sure the footsteps had ceased outside Agent Mulder’s apartment. Had he only just returned home? Where had he been all night? Maybe he wasn’t single after all? At any rate, Kevin knew the man had just arrived home to an unpleasant scene, and they were neighbors after all. He stepped towards number forty-two with purpose, ready to introduce himself, and to offer his sympathy and any practical assistance that might be needed. 

As he neared the door, he lifted his hand and extended a knuckle to rap on the wood, but stopped short. From inside, he heard the distinct sound of sobbing. 

Could it be the shock of arriving home to find his residence violated that had prompted these desperate tears? Or was there some other devastation wreaking havoc in the agent’s life, and this desecration had been the last straw? 

He caught himself disappearing down a rabbithole of speculation. _Wow_ , he thought, _I’m starting to sound like Devin._ Still, Kevin wished he knew the man well enough -- or even at all -- to reach out and offer comfort.

Instead, they were practically strangers. 

Hanging his head and making a silent retreat, Kevin left Agent Mulder to despair in private.

  
  
  
  


**January, 1995**

Kevin pulled into a vacant spot at Hegal Place with a sigh. It had been a long first week back at work following the holidays, almost making him miss the few days he and Devin had spent staying with his parents in Forest Glen. 

Almost.

There was a back entrance to the apartment building but it involved passing the super’s front door. Kevin preferred to avoid running into him lest he begin one of his interminable chats, so he mostly stuck to the front entryway.

He was walking from the car to the street when he saw a burgundy sedan pull up abruptly to the curb. The car jostled forward as it came to a strained halt. The passenger door opened, and Agent Mulder unfolded his elongated frame from the confines of the front seat, clambering out of the vehicle. He left the door wide open as he retrieved an understuffed duffel bag from the trunk, then returned to poke his head back into the car a little, one hand resting atop the roof, his shoulders dipping invitingly. 

The driver leaned across to speak with him, her face moving into the light of the streetlamp overhead, and Kevin found himself inexplicably pleased to see it was the ginger woman from the hallway. The first one. The tiny one. She was smiling, her dainty teeth flashing up at Agent Mulder shyly. She appeared to be teasing him.

“I hope your odd infatuation with women named B.J. has been satisfied for the time being,” she said, looking thoroughly amused with herself.

Agent Mulder laughed and dropped his head, stepping away from the door and reaching for the handle. “I guess I’ll let you know,” he responded. 

As Kevin approached the car, he noted how they held one another’s eyelines for longer than most friends would. Longer than even he and Devin would. They were just standing there, looking at each other. 

No. Not looking. 

Gazing. 

There was something going on between these two, or else there was something not going on, when there clearly ought to be. The heat coursing between them was palpable. Kevin couldn’t tear his eyes away. He thought of his mother, sharply pulling his hand to draw his attention away from scantily clad, bronzed Adonises spilling over the outer edges of Soho on weekend nights out in the West End, telling him it was rude to stare. These two were too wrapped up in one another to notice him, thankfully. 

It occured to Kevin that he might owe Devin an apology. He’d been rolling his eyes at his boyfriend’s prurient interest in the pair for over a year, and here he was pretty much setting up a lawn chair and grabbing his opera glasses over little more than a glance. Although, admittedly, it was a very lingering glance.

Right as Kevin passed them, Agent Mulder looked at his feet, breaking their connection, and spoke. “It’s really good to have you back,” he murmured. 

_Back_ , Kevin thought. Were they perhaps together after all? Had there been some sort of break up that was now resolved? He remembered hearing the fully grown man wracked with grief in his apartment a few weeks earlier. Kevin knew there were very few reasons he had ever allowed himself to break down like that, and all of them had to do with loving someone who, for one reason or another, wasn’t there to love him back.

Something painted the woman’s features a half shade darker, some bad memory or unwelcome thought shading her eyes a deeper blue, one tone down on the color chart. But she forced a smile all the same. “It’s good to be back,” she replied. 

They said their goodbyes as Kevin walked up the front steps, and the sound of the car door closing ricocheted off the glass doors ahead of him. They called one another by name, and Kevin was delighted to have some new, exclusive information to offer Devin, who always seemed to be one step ahead of him on such matters, so he didn’t hold the elevator doors in anticipation of Agent Mulder’s imminent arrival.

He bounced into the apartment with uncharacteristic exuberance, heading right for Devin who was sitting at his desktop computer putting the finishing touches to his latest restaurant review. Kevin planted a wet smack of a kiss on his cheek and practically skipped into the kitchen.

“I’ve got something to tell you,” he sang out.

Devin was more than a little interested in whatever had caused this reaction. He saved his file and ejected the floppy disk from the drive, dropping it next to the mouse for the following morning. He followed Kevin to the fridge, where he was presented with a beer, the top already popped open.

“Join me,” Kevin said, dancing past him and flopping down triumphantly onto the sofa.

“Pray tell, what has elicited such jubilation?” Devin asked, his eyes shining with curiosity.

“Tiny Little Redhead has returned,” Kevin announced with a knowing nod. “She just dropped off Agent Smolder. They seemed... quite cozy.”

Devin’s open mouthed smile displayed his pleasure not only at this very welcome development, but also at his partner’s evident newfound enthusiasm about the topic.

“He said it was good to have her _back_ ,” Kevin elaborated.

“Oh my god I _knew_ it!” Devin exclaimed, “I wonder what happened? Do you think they broke up and got back together? Maybe she left town for a new job but realized she couldn’t live without him?” He gasped. “Maybe she got some other boyfriend but then saw the error of her ways when he couldn’t hold a candle to Special Agent Sex God of Apartment forty-two?”

Kevin stared at him. 

“Anyway, I’m just theorizing,” Devin finished, not quite sheepishly.

“Well,” Kevin continued, “she’s back in his life, whatever happened. _And_ ,” he grinned, “she has a name.”

Devin shone with pride, and lifted his eyebrows in expectation.

“Behold,” Kevin announced, “the confirmed renewed friendship, and possible relationship, of Agent Mulder… and Sally.”

“ _Sally_ …” Devin repeated, turning the word over in his mouth. He beamed his approval. 

They each sat in quiet reverie for a few moments, enjoying this new turn of events. Neither could pinpoint exactly why, but the knowledge that these two near-strangers were once again in close proximity to one another filled them both with comfort and delight.

“To Agent Smolder... and to Sally.” Devin grinned, as they clinked the necks of their beers together.

“To Smolder and Sally.” Kevin echoed, swallowing a celebratory mouthful, oddly vitalized by his conversion to this strange new religion.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hope you're enjoying the ride. Back tomorrow with more...


	4. Bycatch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things at Hegal Place take a violent turn.

  
  


**April, 1995**

The first of the gunshots rang out while Kevin and Devin were watching an episode of _Ellen._

They’d both been feeling off for a few days. Devin especially was suffering, and had struggled to finish his restaurant review in time to submit it late Monday night. He’d sat at the desktop computer alternately shivering and sweating, filling his glass at the faucet over and over to replenish the fluids he knew his body was losing through the fever. Kevin was less affected, but had left a late meeting after a dizzy spell, stopping only to pick up Thai carry-out on his way home. 

The sickness had them both aggravated, and they were crabby, griping at one another as Kevin doled out steaming piles of rice and variously curried meats and vegetables and carried them to the couch. Devin lay beneath a mustard-colored cashmere blanket, clad only in boxer shorts and a loose white Freddie Mercury T-shirt with what looked like the remnants of their last take-out dropped down most of the front. He had one leg hooked around the edge of the blanket in an attempted compromise over his fluctuating temperature. Kevin tutted and rolled his eyes in vague disgust as Devin mopped his dampened brow with the hem of his shirt before reaching for the plate.

“Will you move over please, so I can sit down?” Kevin asked with some annoyance as he held out Devin’s meal. Even he had made some concessions to the fever, removing and hanging up his tie before serving dinner, and rolling up his shirtsleeves, an unusual sight.

“Oh my god, give me half a second,” Devin shot back, his brow furrowing.

“There’s nowhere to put this!” Kevin snapped, indicating his plate of pad thai and the coffee table that was covered in the remains of Devin’s afternoon snacks.

“I can show you where to put it,” Devin muttered, half in jest, fully in earnest.

Kevin stared ahead at the TV as he moved into the spot Devin had vacated, stabbing at his dinner with a fork as though it had harmed him somehow in the past. They both glowered at the screen.

The episode was a repeat, which was probably for the best given the effect their current shared mood was having on their ability to take in any plot lines. They ate quickly and didn’t laugh once.

Just after the third commercial break, with their sauce-laden plates congealing on the coffee table, a loud bang roused them both from their loaded silence. Hearts racing, they sat bolt upright and stared at one another. 

“Was that-”

“Gunshot,” Devin affirmed. 

Kevin’s eyes went wide with terror. “What should we do?”

“Investigate!” Devin sniped, as though affronted by the suggestion they would do anything else.

He dragged himself off the couch with some effort, and took some time in the bathroom draping his robe over his aching shoulders. When he emerged, Kevin followed him to the front door. 

As they opened it, three men emerged from the stairwell. There was a tall, lanky blond in black plastic-rimmed glasses and a zip-up sports sweater; a short, scruffy fellow in a battered fedora, leather jacket and fingerless gloves, and a stiff-looking gentleman with improbable facial hair, wearing a trench coat over a suit and tie. A slightly sour smell emanated from one or more of them as they passed. Trailing behind them was Agent Mulder, looking spooked. The four of them exchanged furtive glances as the bizarre triplet ducked through the already open door to number forty-two. 

“Now _that_ might be his accountant,” Devin murmured under his breath, indicating the last of the men with a sideways tilt of his head. 

“Is everything okay? We heard a gunshot.” Kevin blurted out when Agent Mulder was still several steps away, unable to hide the panic in his shaking voice. 

“Did someone get shot?” Devin asked, his eyes narrowing.

Agent Mulder looked up, his eyes softening as he approached them, his right hand extended. He was wearing jeans and sneakers, paired only with a wrinkled cornflower blue tank top that showed off his muscled arms and dark chest hair. He looked sleep rumpled, and his skin was moist with a sweat-sheen that matched their own. 

Devin expertly ran his eyes over every inch of exposed skin in a swift appraisal, and took a few seconds to note and appreciate how the loose tank and snug-fitting jeans left little to his -- admittedly overactive -- imagination. He caught a whiff of underarm spice and made an effort to compose himself lest his flimsy bathrobe reveal the full extent of his appreciation. Agent Mulder seemed distracted, but continued towards them holding their eyeline anyway.

“Hi. Fox Mulder. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” 

Devin reached out to shake the proffered palm, hoping his own wasn’t too clammy with fever (or Agent Smolder) -induced sweat. “Devin Li.”

Kevin started, unwrapping his arms from their position hugging himself in order to return the greeting. “Kevin Cargill.” 

Fox Mulder smiled. “Devin and Kevin?” he checked.

“It was cute in the beginning.” Devin confirmed wryly. Agent Mulder nodded, amused, placing his hands on his hips, as though he didn’t quite know what to do with them.

Kevin returned his hands to opposite elbows, trying to stop himself shaking. “So did someone get shot?” he asked, reiterating Devin’s question.

Agent Mulder looked him in the eye, and nodded regretfully. “Unfortunately, yes. The woman in apartment twenty-nine downstairs seems to have shot her husband. It might have been an accident. The police are on the scene; it’s being handled. It’s nothing to be frightened by. It’s all over. Nothing to worry about.” He placed a placating hand on Kevin’s shoulder, lightly squeezing for a second before dropping his arm and stepping back. Kevin returned his gaze with a shocked stare, holding it for a few seconds too long.

“Okay, well, you fellas have a good night now. Nice to meet you.” Agent Mulder ran a hand over his face as he turned away.

Returning to the living room, Devin flopped down onto the couch once more. “ _Fox_ indeed. Did you see those biceps?” he asked, flinging his robe to the floor. “And was that a gun shoved into his waistband or do you think he was happy to see me?”

“Shut up, Devin,” Kevin snapped, snatching up the dirty plates from either side of Devin’s bare feet, already propped up on the coffee table.

“Don’t get jealous,” Devin shot back, “and don’t think I didn’t see your jaw hit the floor when he touched you.”

The sound of the dishes being aggressively loaded into the dishwasher was Kevin’s only reply.

***

Two nights later, the second gunshot came when they were already in bed, where Devin had remained all day. He was no longer eating regular meals, subsisting only on tap water and Wheat Thins, and sleeping as much as he could. 

Kevin was feeling perkier than he had, and faring far better than Devin, but still running hot and cold, especially overnight. Devin had been glad to see Kevin leave for work that morning, and irrationally irritated to hear him return late in the evening and feel him crawl into the bed beside him. He felt so annoyed by even just the sound of Kevin’s water glass setting down on the bedside cabinet, he briefly mused that his boyfriend was lucky they didn’t keep a gun in _their_ apartment. 

They had exchanged only a few snarled words before turning out the light, but once again sat up straight as soldiers when the shot pierced the still of night. Their chastened faces peered at one another as a screech of tires indicated a vehicle peeling away in a hurry outside. Wordlessly, they clambered out of bed. Their bedroom window looked out onto the building behind Hegal Place, so they didn’t bother peering out of it, instead heading for the hallway, in the direction of the noises.

Devin stumbled slightly on his way to the door, but reached it first. He still wore the stained Freddie Mercury shirt, Kevin noticed to his chagrin, and hadn’t bothered to cover up with a robe this time. They flung the door back and tumbled out into the hallway to see Sally emerge from Agent Mulder’s apartment, opposite, looking as flustered as they were. For a moment they all just looked at one another, headlight-illuminated deer, petty criminals caught red handed. Sally’s mouth hung open, the exposed whites of her eyes giving away her own fear.

“Are you okay?” Kevin asked, his breath catching, his throat constricted, “We thought we heard a gunshot.”

“I, uh,” the woman appeared to be slightly winded, fumbling in her pocket for something. She looked down at the floor for a moment. “Uh, yes, I’m okay, it’s okay.” She returned her eyes to Kevin’s, steadied her gaze. “I think it was… outside.” She turned back to pull the door closed and pulled a key from her pocket, locking up.

“We should check it out,” Devin said, his fricatives soft around the edges. He was leaning against the wall for support, his eyes unfocused. He began to stand up straight, turning for the exit.

“Are _you_ okay?” she asked, with an air of concern, moving towards him and reaching for his face, halting him.

“Fever,” Kevin said.

“You’re bleeding,” Devin sniffed, quaking slightly, hugging himself. 

Her unoccupied fingers shot up to her forehead, wiping away a deep red trickle that dripped from beneath her hairline. She looked self-conscious.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing,” she said absently. “I’m a medical doctor,” she continued, and felt Devin’s brow with the back of her other hand. “You should be in bed.”

“I was,” Devin said, churlishly. “Until I heard a gunshot outside my apartment. Again.”

Sally frowned and caught Kevin’s gaze questioningly. Devin’s eyes were now closed.

“I’m with the Bureau, I’ll check it out. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. Get back inside,” she instructed as she stalked off in the direction of the stairway, her sense of urgency renewed.

“On your own?” asked Kevin. “Will you be okay?” He wasn’t sure what he could offer, but he felt anxious about this practically Lilliputian female heading out, alone, in the direction of gunfire. 

She turned back and looked him directly in the eyes as she wordlessly lifted the front of her trench coat back, slipping open a button on her olive-green suit jacket in a fluid motion to reveal a gun nestled in a holster at her right hip. She reached for the weapon and held it up next to her head, directed towards the ceiling, as she cautiously pushed at the door to the stairwell. With her other hand she pointed at Devin, but bore her eyes into Kevin’s with strict intent. “Rest, and fluids. Tylenol if he wants it, and if it goes over a hundred and three get him to a hospital.” 

Kevin nodded fearfully, and guided Devin back inside by his damp shoulders.

“Notice how Sally has Agent Smolder’s key?” Devin asked with a tired smirk. Kevin hushed him as he led him back to bed. 

***

Kevin stayed home the next day to try and nurse Devin back to health. Devin seemed keen for Kevin to go in to work, but Kevin insisted barely anything happened on Fridays anyway, and called in sick. He went out to buy sports drinks to replace their lost electrolytes, and by the evening, Devin was feeling much better. He’d showered and -- finally, Kevin noted with relief -- changed. His fever had dropped considerably, and he no longer seemed to want to tear Kevin’s throat out merely for existing. He even managed a small portion of the leftover Thai food which Kevin had threatened to throw out otherwise. Devin couldn’t bear to waste food. 

All mostly forgiven, they were snuggled up together half watching a show about a balloon-toting toddler being hit by an amusement park train when they heard yelling coming from outside. They ran to the window overlooking the back of the building, resting their foreheads against the cold glass to try to see what was going on. The shouts came from their left. It sounded like maybe punches were being thrown. A man’s voice rose and fell, and the words “ _kill you_ ” floated up to their ears. 

Kevin shrunk back away from the glass. Devin reached down to unlatch the window.

“Are you _crazy_?” Kevin hissed. “Get back!”

From outside came more yelling, more sounds of kerfuffle, and the phrase “ _Answer me_!”

Devin stopped fiddling with the catch, but kept his face to the cold surface, peering out with desperate curiosity. His palms were flat against the glass, his nose pushed to one side. “Sally!” he gasped, looking down in the direction of a rear entrance to the building’s basement. “She has a gun!” 

He seemed shocked by this development.

“She’s FBI too,” Kevin stated, realizing how out of it Devin must have been the night before to have missed -- or forgotten -- that particular exchange.

They could hear the redhead’s voice as well now, barking commands at the man -- men? -- at the business end of her pistol. 

“ _Don’t shoot him!_ ” she yelled. _Just back away._ ”

“What’s happening?” Kevin asked, his voice pitched, his face stricken, as the male voice shouted something in response.

Devin _shhhhhed_ him vigorously. “Keep it _down_ ,” he insisted, turning back to look at Kevin as the voices continued outside, waving his hand about in emphasis. “I can’t-” and then he shrieked and jumped back two feet as the week’s third gunshot sounded out over the eerie whistle of the TV theme tune. Devin rushed back to the window to check the situation, and saw that Sally was moving towards where the fight had taken place. “Holy Doctor Doug Ross, I think she shot someone,” he said, a hint of awe mixed in with his fear.

A woman across the way cried out, “Oh my god! Somebody call the police!” and Kevin reached for the phone. 

Devin backed away from the window, his hands visibly trembling. He looked at Kevin, catching his eye as he dialed 911, the receiver shaking in his palm. 

Kevin shook his head in disbelief as he wailed. “ _I promised my mother this was a safe neighborhood_!”

*******

For a few days, they were both a wreck, jerking awake at early morning hours with nightmares of being held at gunpoint while collecting the mail, or getting out of the elevator, or even just asleep in their own bed. Kevin checked in on Devin, working from home, every hour on the hour by telephone, and nervously looked over his shoulder as he hurried from the car to the apartment entryway each night.

By the following weekend, they had both relaxed slightly. They were heading out to Blockbuster for their Sunday evening’s entertainment -- together; they were still a little nervous about solo travel in the dark -- when they ran into Agent Mulder in the lobby. He was coming in as they were going out. Kevin and Devin held hands, each reassured by the other’s presence, even as they stopped to make small talk. 

The tall, brooding Fed wasn’t in his usual uniform of dark suit, long trench and loud tie, but instead wore a checked shirt with jeans, tan hiking boots, a thin olive jacket, and an exhausted expression. His hair was softer, fluffier than usual. The casual look was becoming on him.

“Fox,” Kevin said. “How are you doing?”

Their neighbor looked up at them, dazed. He rubbed at the stubble speckling his sculpted jaw. “Oh, hi guys,” he said softly. “Ah, Kevin, Devin…” He trailed off, looking from one to the other.

“Kevin,” Kevin said, thumbing his own chest.

“Devin,” Devin nodded, generously.

Agent Mulder dropped his head down in apparent shame. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m all over the place. I just came from the hospital.”

“Is everything okay?” Kevin asked, gripping Devin’s hand.

Agent Mulder hesitated. “No,” he said sadly. “My partner’s sister got shot and-” he looked down. “She died today.”

“She got shot _here_?!” Kevin asked, instantly on edge again. Devin threw him a look. That wasn’t the point, of course.

“No, no, not here,” Agent Mulder clarified.

“We’re so sorry.” Devin offered, sharply squeezing Kevin’s hand in reproach. “Your partner, that’s the, uh…” he gestured with the flat of his hand, indicating a spot by his head not too far below his own height. 

Their neighbor nodded, barely. “Yeah, that’s her.”

“Yes, oh my god, so sorry- we’re so sorry.” Kevin added hurriedly. “Please pass on our condolences.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Devin asked. 

Agent Mulder looked up, smiling humbly. “No, it’s okay,” he assured them. “You don’t have to-”

“You have fish, right?” Devin interrupted. “You go away a lot for work?” 

Mulder looked at him oddly. 

“The super told us,” Devin added by way of explanation. “We’d be happy to feed them, whenever you need it.” He could see Kevin eyeing him in his peripheral vision. “I work from home,” he added.

“No, no, honestly, it’s okay, the super does it.” It looked like their neighbor hadn’t graduated to knowing the building manager’s name either.

“Okay,” Devin said. “But if you ever need anything, you know where we live.”

“I know where you live,” Mulder echoed, smiling softly.

“That’s a serious offer,” Devin added.

“Sure,” the agent acknowledged.

“And we really are sorry about your partner. About her sister.” Kevin added, as they got ready to continue onwards. 

Mulder smiled in thanks, heading to the elevator and pushing the call button.

“Honestly, anything you need, Fox.” Devin repeated as the doors slid open.

“Actually, there is one thing,” their neighbor said, stepping in, leaning back on one foot and lifting his chin in their direction. Devin looked back, eager to take on any task this sexy, slightly sad Special Agent might request of them. “Please, call me Mulder,” he finished, just as the elevator swallowed him up.

Walking out to the car, Devin dug his elbow into Kevin’s ribs. “ _Partner_ , eh?” He grinned, excitedly.

Kevin threw him a disapproving look. “I’m sure he means his partner at the FBI.”

Devin shrugged playfully. “But open to interpretation, wouldn’t you say?”

“Devin, the woman’s sister just died.”

“Yes, yes,” Devin replied. Then, with a glint in his eye: “So she’ll need all sorts of extra comforting, wouldn’t you say? She’ll probably need a lot of _holding_.”

“Jesus Christ,” Kevin tutted, unlocking the car door for Devin and pulling it open. “You’re incorrigible.”

He started the car and, before setting off, Kevin spoke again. “Do you think… we should start looking for another place, Devin?” His usage of his boyfriend’s actual name spoke to the seriousness of the request. “You know I’d like to be a father someday,” -- at this, Devin side-eyed him nervously -- “and I’d prefer to do it somewhere a little less… eventful.”

Devin considered this. A break-in, three shootings. All of it in a neighborhood that was supposed to be one of the safest in D.C. Future children or not, it was definitely something worth being cautious about. 

But then he thought of Agent Mulder, and Sally. If they moved, they’d never have the opportunity to watch any of this unfold.

“I don’t know,” Devin replied. And he really didn’t. The morbid curiosity he’d always considered to be one of his most defining characteristics seemed to be winning out over rationality.

“Because of Agent Smolder? And Tiny Little Redhead?” Kevin smiled knowingly. Devin was relieved to know he was thinking the same thing.

“Honestly, yeah,” he agreed. “I guess I really want to know how it all ends.”

Kevin nodded. “I know what you mean.” He backed out of their spot and began to drive away from Hegal Place.

Devin’s mouth suddenly fell open in recollection, and a look of horror washed over his features. “Oh my god,” he croaked, connecting the dots he hadn’t up until now. “Sally’s sister.”

Kevin’s face mirrored his boyfriend’s realization, and his voice hushed. “Slightly-Less-Tiny Redhead,” he whispered, and they looked at one another in mutual shock, their heads nodding in unison. 

They drove to the video store in humbled silence.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Speedy Gonzales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin and Devin are handed the key to Smolder’s kingdom, and cross paths with an FBI MVP.

  
  


**August, 1995**

The heat was oppressive, and the air conditioning unit unpredictable at best. Typically a swift kick would jumpstart the cool manufactured breeze, but today it wasn’t cooperating. Devin was just returning to the apartment after unsuccessfully seeking out the super when he stumbled across Agent Mulder in the hallway. 

It had been a few months since they’d last spoken, and although Mulder had a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and appeared to be in somewhat of a hurry, Devin didn’t want to miss an opportunity to converse.

“Off on a nice vacay, _Mulder_?” Devin drew out the last name in a teasing fashion. 

“No, no,” the taller man said. “Off on a case.”

‘How’s your partner doing?” Devin asked, with slight emphasis on the word ‘partner.’ Mulder looked a bit confused, and Devin quickly added, more sympathetically, “I mean… you know. After her sister.”

“She’s, uh-” Mulder hesitated, looked as though he was asking himself the same question in the moment. “She’s okay, I think. She’s been working hard. She likes to work.”

Devin nodded at him, then added, “She’s pretty badass. I think we saw her shoot some bad guy outside.”

Mulder closed his eyes and sucked in his lips. “Yep,” he said ruefully. “Some bad guy.” He looked down towards the elevator, adjusted the duffel bag strap on his shoulder. “She is pretty badass.” 

“So how long are you away for?”

Mulder shrugged. “Hard to tell with these cases.”

“Seriously,” Devin pressed. “Let me feed those fish for you. I’m here all the time. And I’ve seen the super, I don’t know about him. That mustache is highly suspicious. You really want that guy rifling through all your stuff?” 

Mulder laughed quietly. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “But thank you.”

Devin opened his apartment door with a _have it your way_ gesture. “Good luck on your case,” he said, giving Agent Mulder a little wave goodbye.

He had just turned on the shower, trying to cool himself that way, when he heard a soft knock at the door. Shutting off the water and wrapping a towel around his waist, he went to answer it with some curiosity.

Agent Mulder stood in the hallway, looking awkward. “Turns out the super’s away,” he said, a note of apology in his voice.

Devin grinned and held out his hand. Mulder hesitantly dropped a single key into his waiting palm.

“You can trust me,” Devin assured him. “Just let me know when you get home.”

Mulder nodded, looking slightly embarrassed as he repeated his journey along the corridor. At the elevator doors he turned back. “Fish food’s in the desk,” he said. “Middle drawer.”

Devin nodded. “Middle drawer,” he parroted responsibly.

When Kevin returned from work that evening he found Devin backwards on the couch, kneeling up, eagerly watching him walk into the living room, a gleam in his deep brown eyes. He held up a single key attached to a rubber band.

“Guess who’s feeding Agent Smolder’s fish while he’s away?” he asked in a melodic tone, like a playground chant.

Kevin’s mouth gaped open.

“Put down your briefcase, honey,” Devin instructed. “We’re going investigating.”

  
  
***

  
  


Devin unlocked Agent Mulder’s door and entered cautiously. Kevin poked his head around the corner, surveying the space.

“Are you positive we aren’t taking advantage of his trust? Surely he doesn’t need the fish fed until tomorrow at the earliest,” Kevin said nervously.

“Of course we’re taking advantage,” Devin replied with a roll of his eyes. “I want to check his apartment out.”

Before Kevin could protest, they were both inside and the door had closed behind them. “Okay, just… don’t touch anything that doesn’t have to do with the fish.”

“Of course not,” Devin said nonchalantly as he moved through the space, wandering into the kitchen, opening various cupboards and drawers. There was a single mug in the sink, and practically nothing inside the fridge but an unopened package of coffee and a loaf of bread. He wondered what this guy ate.

Kevin stood in the entryway anxiously, as if Mulder was going to arrive home at any minute. 

“Relax, Kev,” Devin said. “We have permission to be here. It’s fine.” He cracked open the door to what appeared to be the bedroom and saw a mountain of boxes. He thought he saw a bed in there somewhere, but there was no way anyone could use it with the room in this state.

“No way is this guy sleeping with anyone,” Devin pointed out.

Kevin finally moved further into the apartment to take a look. “Too bad for Sally,” he joked nervously.

Devin pushed the bedroom door open a few more inches and reached into an open box that was close at hand. He retrieved a miniscule pair of bright red Speedos and held them up for Kevin to see.

“I suspect those leave very little to the imagination,” Kevin commented.

“I feel a very sudden and very strong urge to purchase a swim membership at every pool in town,” Devin pronounced, rubbing the lycra between his forefingers before forlornly tossing them back.

Kevin playfully swatted him as Devin turned towards the television. 

Kevin glanced at the window and saw an ‘X’ made out of two strips of masking tape stuck to it. “Huh,” he said. Devin was too busy flipping through the movies in Mulder’s television cabinet to notice.

“Devin, those don’t have to do with the fish,” Kevin pointed out.

Devin held out a VHS of _A Fish Called Wanda_ with a triumphant smirk. “Yes, they do. Now cut it out and come look at these with me,” he said, exasperated. “ _Star Trek, Plan 9, Caddyshack, Animal House_ … Oh, jackpot!” 

He slid out what appeared to be an unlabelled video from the end of a row of similar specimens. He opened the case and popped it into the VCR.

“Devin…” Kevin warned.

“I just want to see what kind of porn this guy is into,” Devin said. “We’ll know once and for all if he likes women.”

Kevin shrugged and acquiesced, because he wanted to know, too. And they didn’t have to wait long for their answer when a decidedly female subject popped up onto the screen. She was wearing an astronaut helmet and not much else. 

“Bummer,” both Kevin and Devin sighed in disappointed unison. 

But then the plot thickened. The woman in the video, with her auburn tresses and full, pouty lips, looked remarkably like Sally. And the video had been cued up to this particular scene, it was worth noting.

Both men seemed to notice this simultaneously, and shared a look that expressed everything that needed to be said. It seemed that whether he was aware of it or not, Agent Mulder had the hots for his partner.

Devin made his way over to the desk and opened the middle drawer as the apartment’s occupant had instructed. He removed the fish food, then as one final act of nosiness, pulled the drawer out all the way.

At the back, tucked underneath some stationery, was a photograph. On the reverse was scrawled: _I stand by my assessment. M.F._

Devin flipped it over.

It was a candid shot of Sally in what appeared to be a dark, cluttered room. Backlit through some half-shuttered blinds, she was crowded into the center of the frame by reel-to-reel tape recorders, file cabinets of varying hues and undisciplined piles of boxes, newspapers and magazines. She was smiling, not exactly broadly -- which, from what little they'd seen, fit with her careful, measured countenance -- but in clear amusement at something. She looked happy, and beautiful. 

And they knew exactly what finding it hidden in their neighbor's desk drawer meant.

“He loooooooves her!” Devin squealed.

Kevin appeared to loosen up with this news, and seemed as delighted as his partner. “Oh my god.”

“It’s just like _Moonlighting_!” Devin said with a gleeful giggle. 

“Yeah, and something tells me this is going to be just as difficult,” Kevin predicted. If nothing had happened between these two by now, there was no knowing if and when anything would _ever_ happen. He gestured around Mulder’s apartment. “This guy may look like a Shakespearean hero, but he’s no Romeo. I guarantee it.”

“Oh, shush,” Devin tsked. “This is meant to be, I have a sense about these things.”

“You watch too many romantic comedies.”

“I watch the perfect amount of romantic comedies,” Devin corrected. “And we’re going to need my extensive knowledge of them to navigate this one.”

Devin carefully put the picture back. 

“Let’s go,” he said. “I need to find my _Moonlighting_ tapes right now.”

“We’d better do what we came for first,” Kevin suggested, holding out his hand for the fish food. He tapped a few flakes into the tank and the hungry mollies rushed to the surface. He crouched down to inspect it.

“You know, this tank is pretty disgusting,” Kevin pointed out. “Looks like he hasn’t cleaned it in months.”

“Ooh, a project!” Devin said, delighted. “Let’s take it over to our place and clean it out real good, and he’ll be so impressed with us we’ll all become best friends, and he can come over for movie night and watch _When Harry Met Sally_ with us, for inspiration. It’ll be perfect!”

Kevin sighed. “Sure. I wouldn’t feel right just leaving it like this.” He stared a bit longer at the fish. “This one is really pretty, don’t you think?” He pointed to a red short-finned that was staying hidden in one of the plastic caves. “He’s shy.”

Devin peered into the tank. “They’re all pretty, they’re fish in a tank. That’s the point.”

“Fair enough,” Kevin relented. “But this one is special. He’s so still.” Then, after a moment, he questioned, “Should he be so still?”

Devin looked. The fish was indeed a touch motionless. “Little Speedy Gonzales here?” He grabbed Kevin’s hand and headed back towards their apartment to get containers to transfer the fish. “Let’s get the tank cleaned and maybe he’ll make a move.”

They both couldn’t help but wonder if Agent Mulder would do the same.

  
  
  
  


**October, 1997**

Fall at Hegal Place was beautiful, and Devin looked forward to it every year. They could just see the tops of the autumn-colored trees that lined the sidewalks outside their window, and when he left it open, the wind would carry the sounds of excited children walking to and from the school down the street. The place was really growing on Devin. 

A couple of relatively uneventful years had passed, and other than the occasional request to feed his fish, they’d had very few run-ins with their mysterious, handsome neighbor. Frustratingly, they hadn't managed to note any changes between the Agent across the hall and his feisty partner.

The sunrise was particularly golden this morning, and as the amber light streamed through their bedroom window, Devin watched Kevin sleeping soundly next to him until the alarm went off and they both rose to start the day.

As the coffee percolated, Kevin reached into the top drawer by the sink for a new filter. He pulled out a single key on a keyring instead, holding it up to examine it.

The plastic keyfob displayed a buff-looking young man wearing nothing but a pair of skin tight, scarlet briefs.

Devin was holding the refrigerator open, watching him. “Turn it upside down,” he grinned.

Kevin knew what he was about to witness, but did it anyway. As he tilted the thing backwards, the underwear floated down out of view to reveal an impressive male member, complete with a shock of dark pubic hair.

Kevin closed his eyes, appearing to calm himself. “Devin,” he sighed. “Sometimes, you can be such a cliché.” 

“What?” Devin shrugged. “I didn’t want to write ‘Mr. Mulder of apartment forty-two’ on it. What if I lose it somewhere? It could be abused. This way we know whose it is, but no one else can tell.” He winked. Kevin tutted and dropped it back into the drawer.

Just then, there came a sharp rap at the door.

When Kevin opened it, there was a tall, bald man with glasses standing there. He looked extremely no-nonsense and pulled out a badge.

“Don’t be alarmed, the name’s Walter Skinner. I’m with the FBI. I just wanted to ask you a couple of questions.”

Devin sidled up beside Kevin and took in the sight of the gruff stranger. This building perhaps wasn’t the safest one they could be living in, given the somewhat-too-local history of gunfire, but there was no shortage of good-looking, burly Feds roaming the hallways, that was for sure.

“What can we do for you?” Devin asked with what he hoped was an alluring smile.

“There appears to have been some kind of accident across the hall,” the man explained. “Did either of you happen to notice anything or hear anything?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Kevin mumbled under his breath. Devin peeked out the doorframe towards Agent Mulder’s door, which was ajar. The hallway was crawling with cops and various looky-loo neighbors trying to get a peek.

“Oh my god!” Devin said, alarmed. “He gave us a key! We didn’t break in, I swear! We were only feeding the fish!”

The bald guy looked at him severely. “You were inside his apartment? When?”

“Um,” Devin said, feeling nervous. He had never been very good with authority figures. “A couple of days ago?”

“He went to Canada, he told us,” added Kevin.

“Oh god, are we under arrest?” Devin asked. Kevin put a hand on his shoulder.

“No, no…” Skinner closed his eyes in apparent frustration. “This happened last night. Early this morning, actually. I just want to know if you happened to see anyone, anything at all.”

Both Kevin and Devin shook their heads. “Can I ask… what happened?” Kevin asked.

Skinner sighed heavily. “I’m very sorry to say, Agent Mulder is dead.”

Devin gasped. “He’s… dead?”

“How?” Kevin asked. Devin gripped his hand.

“That’s official FBI business, I’m afraid. Although we suspect foul play,” Skinner said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, handing it to Kevin. “So if you remember anything, or see anything suspicious, anything at all that can help, please don’t hesitate to give me a call.”

Skinner nodded and turned to walk away. As Kevin began to shut the door, Devin poked his head out and asked one of the neighbors in the hallway “What happened, did you hear anything?”

The man leaned in conspiratorially. “Looks like he shot himself in the head,” he said without any attempt at softening the blow. “Poor guy.” 

Devin’s jaw dropped, and Kevin closed the door in a daze. He looked at the card, thinking. When he finally looked at Devin, he was seated on the couch, his hand clasped to his mouth, eyes wide.

“I can’t believe it,” he said behind his hand. “I can’t believe he’s dead.”

“Dev,” Kevin said sadly, sitting next to him on the couch. “Agent Mulder was… troubled, I suppose. Sometimes it’s hard to tell from the outside.”

Devin shook his head. “He wouldn’t kill himself, that’s not how the story is supposed to go!”

“Darling, this isn’t like one of your movies,” Kevin said gently.

“That guy Skinner, he said they suspected foul play. What if someone killed him? What if there’s some way we can help them get to the bottom of this?”

Kevin shook his head. “How?” he asked. 

“I have to tell you something,” Devin said, suddenly standing and walking around the coffee table. “But you have to promise me you won’t get upset.”

Kevin tilted his head to the side, confused. “Tell me what?”

Devin took a deep breath. “Do you remember last May, when you were in Las Vegas for that law conference?”

Kevin waited. “Yeah…?”

“You remember what I told you?”

“Yeah,” Kevin said, trying to recall. “You said someone died in the building.”

Devin grimaced. “I may have downplayed that a bit.”

Kevin eyed him. “Devin. Downplayed it how?”

“The guy got shot in the hallway.”

A look of absolute shock came over Kevin’s face. “What?”

“Murdered. Right outside our door.”

The incident was burned into Devin’s brain: the blood; a bright red streak that tracked from Agent Mulder’s door all the way down to the elevator. The dead man that blocked his doorway: dark skin, an even darker trench coat. Nothing else descriptive, as if the man himself were a cypher.

Devin had been absolutely terrified. He’d never seen an actual dead body in his life. But rather quickly the police had shown up, the crime scene had been cleaned, and Mulder had personally apologized directly to his terror-stricken face for the disturbance. By the time it was all over, Devin had realized he didn’t want to call Kevin and tell him what had happened.

“You said, and I quote, ‘Oh, someone had a heart attack or something’,” Kevin reminded Devin, his eyes stern. 

“I didn’t want to call you in the middle of the night and worry you,” Devin explained. “I knew the second you heard what happened you’d race back here and start packing up to leave right away.”

“But later?” Kevin pressed. “After I got home?”

Devin sighed. “It sounds silly but… after a few days had passed, I just had no idea how to tell you. What would I have said? By the way, some guy got shot outside our door? Pass the milk?”

Kevin pinched his temple in frustration. “Is there anything else you’ve neglected to mention? Anything else that might put us in danger, Devin?”

“I’m so sorry,” Devin said. “I just…” his mouth formed a tight, thin line in frustration. “I don’t want to move!” 

Devin had taken to heart the concerns his boyfriend had voiced in the parking lot after Sally’s sister had been shot. Finding another place to live was a topic that would linger in the air anytime something terrible happened, just drifting around them in space waiting to be grasped and taken seriously by either of them. But it had never happened. 

Now, they had no choice but to discuss it.

Devin couldn’t hold in his tears any more and began to cry. Kevin stood and approached him, pulling him into an embrace. “It’s okay,” he said softly.

Kevin patted his boyfriend on the back and they stood for a few moments, reflecting on the seriousness of their situation. It was odd that Agent Mulder had seemed to bring his work home with him, so to speak, so often. Neither of them had ever suspected the life of a federal agent could be so exciting. Kevin was annoyed by his partner’s lack of disclosure, but he couldn’t deny that, deep down, the events that took place in their building from time to time rather excited him as well. 

“He can’t have shot himself,” Devin whispered. “I mean… what about Sally? He wouldn’t do this to her.” 

“Let’s figure this out,” Kevin said softly. “Okay?”

They both sat back on the couch side by side. Devin told him everything that had happened the night the man had been shot across the hall, including a detail he’d never quite made sense of himself.

“S.R.S.G.?” Kevin asked. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Devin nodded. “Written on the floor in blood. You don’t forget an image like that. I kept trying to figure out what it meant, but the best I could come up with was ‘Sally, run! Sally, go!’ which I will admit is kind of a stretch. Not to mention a little cryptic for an urgent message...”

Kevin pondered for a moment. “What about ‘Special Representative to the Secretary General’?”

Devin made a face. “That’s so boring, Kev. Of course you know exactly what it means.”

“Well, it makes sense, doesn’t it? He works for the FBI. Both government jobs.”

“Okay,” Devin nodded. “So this guy showed up, got killed by someone and tried to tell Mulder… what, to go find this Special Representative person? Why?”

Kevin shook his head. “I don’t know, I don’t know.”

“Could have just sent him an email or something,” Devin muttered.

Suddenly Kevin looked at his boyfriend in horror. “What if Mulder was the one who shot him?” he asked.

“No way,” Devin assured him. “He was out of town. I’d fed the fish the day before, and when Mulder got back home he was visibly shocked.”

The men sat in the relative sanctity of apartment forty-five and debated the ins and outs of Agent Mulder’s world for hours. They shared every detail they could possibly remember, devoured every morsel of information. At one point Devin pulled out a sheet of paper and began to make a chart. Nothing they came up with got them any closer to figuring out the byzantine plot that Agent Mulder seemed to be involved with. They had nothing of value to share with the imposing bald guy, and were both despondent their neighbor had come to such a horrifyingly sad end. Worse, they had no idea where Sally was, or if she knew about any of this: if she was alone and miserable somewhere over the loss of her partner.

A couple of mornings later, Kevin awoke and trudged into the kitchen to make coffee, and just as the thin stream of liquid hit the bottom of the pot, there was a gentle knock at their door.

Kevin eyed Devin, who was sleepily getting off the couch, and they both feared it would be Walter Skinner of the FBI again, back to share some more horrible news. 

Neither of them were prepared for the sight before them.

There in the doorway, like a ghost, stood Agent Mulder. He had on dress pants and a white shirt, sleeves rolled up to the crooks of his elbows, tie untied. In his hand was a bouquet of flowers.

“Oh my god!” Kevin said, as Devin came up behind him.

“You’re alive!” Devin added, rather unnecessarily.

“I’m so sorry about the disturbance,” Mulder said. He looked genuinely apologetic. “There was a bit of a mix-up, and I just wanted to come by and make sure you guys didn’t think I was off somewhere playing a harp.”

Devin had to fight the urge to fling his arms around the bedraggled agent in relief. “Thank god,” he said instead. “I’m so relieved you’re all right.”

Mulder grimaced. “Again, I’m sorry.” He gestured at him. “You two are the only people I know in the building and I thought you might be confused. Just wanted to make sure you knew the truth.”

“We appreciate that, Mulder,” Kevin said earnestly. He pointed to the flowers. “But the flowers are overkill.”

Devin swatted him.

“Oh, no…” Mulder held the bouquet to the side lamely, examining it as if he’d only just realized he was holding it. “These are for… well, my partner has been in the hospital.”

“Is she okay?” Devin asked, greatly concerned.

Mulder nodded with what appeared to be tremendous relief. “Yeah,” he said, smiling. “She’s going to be fine.”

He gave a friendly wave and was off, boarding the elevator. Kevin closed the door and turned to Devin with relief that echoed their neighbors.

“Not only is he a sex god,” Devin quipped, “he’s our very own Lazarus.”

  
  
  
  


**April, 1998**

It was the middle of the night and Devin was perched at the bedroom window. It was open just a crack and his face was pressed up against the glass.

“Kevin!” he said loudly. “Wake up!”

“Dev, what are you doing?” Kevin asked, exhausted and disoriented.

“It’s Sally and Smolder downstairs,” Devin said. “I think they’re fighting about something.”

In spite of his sleepiness, Kevin appeared intrigued. “Oh yeah? Can you hear anything at all?”

Devin strained to hear. “Something about danger, about putting someone in danger.” He listened a little longer. “She seems really worried about him, Kev.”

Kevin yawned and shrugged. “Come back to bed.”

“Looks like something happened to his hand,” Devin said, noticing something. “He’s got a cast or a splint or something.” He turned around and looked at Kevin, wide-eyed. “Do you think he got into a tussle with some bad guys?”

“It wouldn’t be unusual,” Kevin admitted. 

Devin shook his head slowly, disapprovingly. “It’s not okay for him to worry Sally like that,” he declared very seriously. 

Kevin chuckled again. “You sure have the ability to cling to any tiny crumb and somehow turn it into a wedding cake,” he muttered, laying his head back down onto his pillow.

Devin leaned back into the window. “Looks like Smolder’s taking off, but Sally is just pacing around the front of the building.”

“Come on, Dev, it’s late,” Kevin said, patting the vacated spot next to him.

“You know what?” Devin said suddenly, as if coming to a rather brilliant idea. “I’m gonna go get the mail!”

“It’s three in the morning,” Kevin pointed out. “And I already got the mail.”

“Well, Sally doesn’t know that!” He threw his robe on and ran out of the apartment, taking the stairs at his typical following-a-lead two at a time pace.

There was no mail, as expected, but while he feigned looking for it he noticed Sally sitting alone on the front stoop. Desperately searching for an excuse to talk to her, he rather boldly decided to just do it without one. Screwing up his courage, he opened the front door of Hegal Place.

“I’m sorry, hi,” Devin said, as she turned around to look at him. Her eyes appeared weary and resigned. “Was just coming down to get the mail and saw you out here.” 

“In the middle of the night?” she asked, amused.

He shrugged and tilted his head. “I’m a bit of a night owl.”

She grinned slightly, but turned away from him again, facing off into the distance.

“You work with Agent Mulder, right?” he asked, still holding the door partially open. He wanted to sit next to her but felt that wouldn’t necessarily be welcomed.

She nodded. “Mm-hm.”

“Are you... okay?” he asked.

Sally stood up and straightened her suit, turning around. “I’m fine,” she said, in a voice that Devin took to mean she wasn’t fine at all. “Just heading out. Have a nice night.”

She began to take the steps down when something came over Devin he couldn’t quite explain. Perhaps it was being stuck in this infuriatingly slow-moving narrative with not only a lack of forward motility but an absolute lack of clarity. In any event, he couldn’t help himself.

“Are you his girlfriend?” he blurted, hopeful.

Sally’s eyes flickered, and even beneath the barely-visible gloom of the street lamps he saw something inside them that told him her words were about to betray her true thoughts. 

“Not even close,” she replied somewhat enigmatically, and headed towards the street.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is always welcomed and much appreciated! More to come...


	6. Stingray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear reader, the hallway scene we’ve all been waiting for...

**July 1998**

  
  


It was Friday, and that meant movie night.

With a large delivery pizza fully consumed and cleared away, Kevin had plopped down beside Devin with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, four bare feet propped up on the coffee table. The D.C. heat was absolutely unbearable, especially since their unreliable central air conditioner was still, rather incredibly, broken. Apparently, much of the city was experiencing the same problem, because they couldn’t get someone in to look at it until the following week. In the meantime, they’d left every window in the apartment open and even on occasion -- like that evening -- the front door a crack, taking advantage of the functioning air conditioning unit in the hallway.

In any event, the golden sun was just on the verge of setting and a fan was pointed at the pair as they attempted to snuggle together despite the temperature, watching  _ Jerry Maguire. _

Sharing a running commentary on romantic movies was one of their favorite activities together, but tonight the film wasn’t occupying either of their attention enough to keep their minds off the wretched heat.

Devin took a sip of his cosmo, the glass sweating like crazy, when he heard a familiar clunk of heels outside in the hallway. Then, a familiar voice.

_ “You want to tell yourself that so you can quit with a clear conscience you can, but you’re wrong.” _

_ “Why did they assign me to you in the first place, Mulder?” _

It was Agent Mulder, of course, and it was definitely Sally, that take-no-prisoners, deal-with-no-nonsense voice shockingly familiar to two people who had never officially met her. 

Kevin noticed too, turning his head, and in an instant they both knew what was going on right outside their door was going to be much more interesting than the movie.

“It’s Mulder and Sally!” Kevin hissed, rather redundantly. 

“Do you think he’ll be wearing that tight gray T-shirt again?” Devin queried, and although Kevin rolled his eyes as he recalled the last time he’d seen these two dashing down the hallway, he couldn’t help but hope for the same.

Devin set his glass down on the table and he and Kevin practically toppled over each other in an effort to get to the door as quietly as possible, tiptoeing the final few steps. Kevin crouched down by the doorframe, still holding the popcorn bowl, and Devin leaned over him from behind until their heads were side by side, peeking through the crack.

From this vantage point, for once, they had an absolutely unobstructed view down the hall of what was happening.

“But you saved me!” Agent Mulder was saying with great passion, taking a few steps towards Sally until he was properly blocking his neighbors from her eye line. However, she was so focused on what he was saying to her that she surely wouldn’t have noticed them there in any event. “As difficult and as frustrating as it’s been sometimes, your goddamn strict rationalism and science have saved me a thousand times over.”

Kevin eyed Devin.  _ What is he talking about?  _ he mouthed. Devin sure as hell didn’t know but sexy, brooding FBI agents were even sexier when they sounded intelligent, so he sure as hell didn’t care, either.

“You kept me honest,” Agent Mulder continued. “You made me a whole person!”

Devin clasped Kevin on the shoulder, and the other man covered his hand with his own softly. 

_ “She completes him!”  _ Devin said, sotto voce, more to himself than to Kevin. This was all almost too much for either of them to process. They looked at one another, both equally moved, then turned back to catch the tail end of Agent Mulder’s next sentence.

“...you owe me nothing.”

Kevin leaned forward, tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth from the bowl he was still holding.

Then Agent Mulder was talking quietly, almost too quiet for them to hear. Devin strained to catch it... something about quitting, and winning. He couldn’t make it out.

But then something happened that neither of them expected. The two agents were hugging, right there in the hallway. These two people, who, as far as Kevin and Devin were aware hadn’t so much as given each other a handshake, were wrapping their arms around each other. One of them was crying, Devin could tell that much, and when Agent Mulder finally pulled back, in Sally’s eyes there were tears; and more notably, a kind of desperate love Devin had never seen before. In anyone.

What had these two gone through together that would warrant such emotion? What on earth was going on between them? Kevin and Devin were absolutely riveted. They could not look away.

After a few moments the two agents remained looking at each other, saying nothing, and Devin, in opposition to his usually over-inquisitive nature, had a curious impulse to stop watching them, worried they were intruding on something extremely intimate.

“Hey, maybe we should-” he began to whisper to Kevin, but his partner suddenly gripped his hand and Devin looked back down the hallway. Agent Mulder’s hand rested on Sally’s neck, and he was leaning in, and suddenly nothing mattered more at this second than these two people in this hallway, very clearly about to kiss. And even from a few feet away there was no mistaking the look in Sally’s eyes: the look of being approached in such a way for the very first time.

Devin squeezed Kevin’s hand and bent forward until he was practically leaning all of his weight against him. The fan whirred in the living room. The popcorn bowl, forgotten, tilted precariously in Kevin’s lap. Nobody breathed. Both of their mouths hung open in anticipation, when…

_ “Ow!” _

Sally fell against Agent Mulder’s shoulder as her hand shot to the back of her neck, and Kevin started to make a noise of protest until Devin clasped his hand over his mouth, effectively shutting him up.

_ So close. _

Kevin turned to face his partner and, before he could give them away, Devin reached for the door and delicately but swiftly pushed it shut.

“Noooooo,” Kevin whined as he fell to the floor in amused exasperation. “That was painful!”

They’d been watching their neighbor and his pretty partner for years now, their very own mini-soap opera across the hall, and tonight felt like sweeps. Neither of them were sure what had happened exactly, but they were not at all pleased with the cliffhanger they’d just witnessed. 

“What happened to her?” Devin asked, for he honestly hadn’t had the chance to see the aftermath.

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” Kevin was saying. His hands were covering his eyes and he looked like he was about to burst out laughing. “I can’t believe this, I really can’t.”

“That was a huge deal, what we just saw, right?” Devin asked gleefully. “I mean, what we just witnessed was some kind of revelation, right?”

“No way have those two kissed before,” Kevin agreed. “Did you see her face?”

“Oh my god, it was like a Cary Grant movie!” Devin squealed. His thoughts then turned to Tom Cruise and Renee Zellweger, and how they had absolutely nothing on these two hopeless idiots. 

“Those two are in love,” Kevin said, pointing his finger vaguely in the general direction of the door. “Convince me otherwise.”

“Never,” Devin said. 

Kevin smiled. The tips of his ears were pink, a telltale sign to Devin that he was indeed tickled by this turn of events. Suddenly, Devin’s demeanor changed as abruptly as it had appeared. “You never look at me like that,” he pouted.

Kevin sighed. “Honey…”

“Forget it!” Devin put a hand up.

Kevin grinned, knowing Devin was joking, and was about to reach for his boyfriend’s upheld hand when there was a commotion from outside the door. They heard footsteps running up the hallway, coming closer, and Devin’s feigned annoyance was completely forgotten. In a moment of rare caution thrown to the wind, Kevin opened the door to peek out again. He was not prepared for what he saw.

“She’s hurt, I think!” He pulled his head back into the room in alarm, then threw the door open and ran out into the hallway, Devin following closely.

There, lying on the floor in their hallway, was Sally. Her brow was sweaty and she was practically convulsing.

“Oh my god… Miss?” Devin said as he approached, his voice laced with fear. 

Sally’s eyes were glassy and unfocused as she stared past him, unable to meet his gaze. Something was definitely very, very wrong. Kevin stood backed against the wall and tapped his foot anxiously.

“Go call 911!” Devin yelled. “Kevin! Go!”

Kevin turned and ran back to the apartment. 

“Miss… Sally..?” Devin offered, trying to calm her down. She didn’t seem to be coherent. Luckily at that moment Agent Mulder came back out into the hallway from his own apartment.

“Don’t touch her!” he yelled in an authoritative voice. In spite of the madness that had transpired in the past minute, Devin found himself incredibly turned on by Smolder’s masterful transformation. He shook it off quickly --  _ now’s not the time  _ \-- stood up and raised his hands in the air wordlessly, surrendering himself to Mulder’s command.

“I’m sorry,” Agent Mulder apologized, “it’s just… I don’t know what’s wrong with her. Here, back up, back up.”

Agent Mulder dropped to his knees at Sally’s side. “Can you hear me?” he said. He stroked the sides of her face with his fingers, wiped damp tendrils of hair away from her eyes. He did it with such care and gentle consideration it nearly made Devin short of breath.

Her eyes were closed, and it seemed to Devin she’d passed out. “Can I help?” he asked. “Can I do anything?”

Agent Mulder looked around helplessly, like he wasn’t really registering his neighbor at all. “Um… yes… yeah,” he finally said, looking back down at his partner. “Would you go downstairs and wait for the paramedics and tell them where we are?”

“Of course,” Devin said. Surely doing anything that could get the paramedics to her faster would be a worthwhile endeavor. He turned around and pressed the elevator button just as Kevin emerged from number forty-five.

“They’re on their way,” Kevin told him, stepping carefully around Mulder and Sally as the elevator doors opened. Mulder, so engrossed in his helpless ministrations, appeared to have stopped listening.

When they were both inside and the elevator began its descent, a thick blanket of silence enveloped them. Regardless of everything that they’d witnessed over the past few years, even the past few minutes, this wasn’t entertainment anymore. Suddenly these were real people with real lives, and one of them was in very real danger. Devin couldn’t help but notice his boyfriend hadn’t even asked what they were doing. He’d followed him without question, and just before the elevator reached the ground floor, Kevin reached out to take Devin’s hand. 

They stood outside, the evening sun disappearing behind the buildings of their quiet tree-lined Alexandria street, gilding brickwork and wrought iron fire-escapes with its dissipating glow. It didn’t seem real that, just upstairs, yet another person could be dying mere feet away from their doorstep.

Only a few minutes later, the sky had darkened and an ambulance came whirring around the corner. No lights, no sirens. Kevin waved them over to the building. A couple of paramedics stepped out, one with a rolling stretcher, and Kevin and Devin led them into the building.

Devin tried to explain everything he’d seen, and told them Mulder and Sally were on the fourth floor. The paramedics barely seemed to register their presence, practically waving them out of the way before filing onto the elevator. One of them closed the door before Kevin or Devin could board.

“That was… odd,” Kevin mused. They rushed into the stairwell. Devin forged ahead up the steps, huffing and puffing. Neither of them wanted to miss anything, Kevin knew, but he also knew Devin would not take well to four flights of stairs a mere twenty minutes after finishing nearly an entire pizza.

After only a couple of floors, Devin doubled over, panting and wheezing. He gripped the handrail and started to mount the next staircase.

“Slow down,” Kevin said. “I don’t want to come back here and clean up vomit when I could be worrying about Agent Smolder and his should-be-girlfriend.”

Devin nodded, drawing up his face in anguish, grabbing his stomach.

When they eventually reached the fourth floor, all of the excitement was seemingly over. The only person still roaming the hallway was the super, pacing and wiping his brow with a handkerchief. 

“What happened?” Kevin asked, Devin gasping for breath behind him.

“They took her out of here, hopefully they made it in time. She was looking pretty bad from what I could see.”

“Where’s Agent Smolder? Uh- Mulder?” Kevin quickly amended.

The super shrugged. “He went with her. Where else would he be?”

Devin and Kevin shared a brief look, a quick moment of realization that perhaps they weren’t the only ones in the building who’d noticed the couple’s apparent codependency.

“I hope she’s gonna be okay,” asked Devin, when he could finally string words together. 

Kevin found himself thinking  _ I swear to god, if she dies before those two even get to kiss, I’m burning this entire building down. _

It occurred to him that, perhaps, he was more invested in this couple than he’d previously realized.

Suddenly, as if the evening needed to get more exciting, a gunshot rang out from the street. 

“Oh god, not again,” Kevin lamented as he turned around to peer out the window. He could only see the tops of trees. But something caught Devin’s eye that Kevin had obviously missed.

“It’s him! Look!” Devin pointed, and sure enough, Agent Mulder was lying on the ground. The ambulance, still with no sirens, drove away from the fallen agent on the asphalt.

“What kind of paramedics…?” Devin mumbled as the trio made their way to the elevator.  _ What the hell was happening?  _

They burst out of Hegal Place, running towards Agent Mulder, for all the world as if they were lifelong friends. Another ambulance, lights shining and sirens blaring this time, whipped around the corner and suddenly Kevin, still mid-run, felt deeply confused. Was this the ambulance he had called for? And if so, who had just driven off with Sally?

“Agent Mulder!” Devin shrieked, stopping short at the sight of blood smeared all over his face. 

The ambulance screeched to a halt and what Kevin now took to be actual paramedics poured out, surrounding the agent, taking his vitals, assessing his condition.

“Oh my god, somebody shot him!” Devin suddenly exclaimed, rather unhelpfully. He appeared to be in a state of panic.

“Devin, they’ve got him,” Kevin said gently, taking his arm. “Let’s let them do their jobs.”

Other occupants of Hegal Place were now wandering outside, the sounds of gunshots and ambulance sirens most likely far more interesting than any of the romantic comedies they’d been watching themselves. The paramedics were trying to load Agent Mulder onto a stretcher, and he was mumbling what sounded like  _ “Sally… Sally…” _ in a labored voice.

The paramedics informed the super of which hospital they were taking Agent Mulder to, and as quickly as Sally had been whisked away, her prone partner was gone as well.

  
  


***

  
  


Kevin and Devin quietly rode the elevator back to their apartment, closed the door, triple checked the lock, and plunked down onto the couch.

“Well, that evening took a turn,” Devin said. It was the first thing either of them had said to each other since Mulder had been taken away.

Kevin nodded solemnly. Just a few minutes ago they’d been talking excitedly about the huge step the two partners had been about to take. Now, they were in fear for both of their lives.

Devin turned the movie back on, because there really wasn’t anything else they could do. After about thirty minutes or so, Jerry Maguire was getting his happy ending but they were still thinking about the very real couple that had surely just been robbed of theirs.

There was a knock at the door and Kevin got up, thinking maybe the super had some news. But instead, it was a trio of somewhat familiar faces: Lanky Blond, Shorty, and Improbable Facial Hair.

“Hey,” said Lanky Blond. “Did you guys happen to see what happened to your neighbor?” He gestured across the hall. 

“Forty-two?” Kevin asked. “Yeah, he got hurt, outside. They took him to Inova.”

“He got shot!” Devin called from inside the apartment. Kevin turned to shush him.

“We were hoping for some news, actually,” Kevin explained. “He and his partner both got carried away in separate ambulances.”

Improbable Facial Hair gave Lanky Blond a meaningful look. Kevin noticed for the first time that Shorty was crouched down on the floor, searching the hallway for something. 

“We think his partner was kidnapped, actually,” Improbable revealed, divulging nothing further.

“You mean…” Kevin felt a cold chill deep in his gut. He didn’t finish the thought, perhaps because the thought itself was too terrible to comprehend. No lights. No sirens. The rude manner of the first set of paramedics. The  _ gunshot _ , for crying out loud. Had the two of them allowed strange non-paramedics into the building to abscond with Agent Mulder’s partner? Was she in danger because of them? And how had the imposters even known to come for her at that precise moment?

“Found it,” Shorty declared triumphantly, as he stood. In his hand he held a pair of tweezers, and in the tweezers was what looked like a dead bee.

“Ew, what’s that?” Devin said as he came up behind Kevin.

“We need to analyze it, pronto,” Lanky Blond said. He took a glass vial out of his pocket and Shorty dropped the bee inside. Kevin’s eyes darted over to Devin in utter confusion. 

_ A bee? What the hell did a bee have to do with anything? _

“Inova Hospital, you said?” Shorty asked. Kevin and Devin both nodded.

“Thanks, you’ve been incredibly helpful,” the sharply-dressed man said, and with that, the threesome were gone as quickly as they’d arrived.

Kevin shut the door and looked at Devin, who was gaping with that look in his eyes that meant he’d stumbled across something huge. 

"That's what must have happened to her; that's why they didn't kiss!" Devin exclaimed, gesturing wildly. "Remember when she grabbed her neck? She got stung by that bee!"

Kevin dug clenched fists into his slender hips, tilting his head in annoyance.

Had it really all come down to this? They themselves had been witness to four years of palpable sexual tension between these two frankly  _ insanely _ attractive people, and after all of that, their big moment had been interrupted by the poorly timed intervention of a flying stinging insect?

Kevin shook his head with bitter fury.

"Buzzy little cock-blocking bastard."


	7. Barracuda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interlopers arrive at number forty-two.

**November, 1998**

The summer heat had worn off, and fall was well underway again. It was crisp and dry outside and the trees that lined Hegal Place had already turned brown and scattered their leaves onto the ground. The crunching on the pavement was music to Devin’s ears after the long central-air-less summer months. 

It had been several weeks since The Incident in the Hallway, and after a brief encounter not long afterwards with a rather scruffy and fatigued Mulder looking as if he’d gone to Hell and back while reassuring them of his partner’s safety, they’d seen very little of him. Kevin and Devin had attempted to make themselves busy, but both of their minds kept wandering to the kiss that had very nearly happened just outside their door. Neither of them could get it off their minds. It was as if these two strangers had completely consumed their thinking.

This was when they first laid eyes on The Brunette.

She was tall and curvy, a distinct counterpoint to Sally. Her hair was dark and long, her lips were thin, and her breasts spilled out of her top in a way unfamiliar to Kevin and Devin, at least around Agent Smolder’s apartment. 

They’d only ever met her once, but one meeting was all they’d needed to take an instant dislike to her. She’d bumped into them in the lobby one morning, a bit unkempt, and everything about her screamed _walk of shame_. But there was no shame here; in fact, she’d seemed obnoxiously proud to be flaunting her apparent recent conquest in front of them. (Although they might not have made the connection at all if they hadn’t noticed her knocking at Agent Mulder’s door the night before, and been disproportionately outraged.)

“ _Excuse_ me,” she’d said brusquely, and they could have forgiven it had she not then looked down her nose at them derisively. 

At first, Kevin had tried to rationalize her existence. “At least Smolder’s getting laid,” he pointed out. 

“I don’t want him to,” Devin pouted, crossing his arms. “Not by Miss Bitchy Tits.”

Kevin tried to shrug it off, but Devin was practically inconsolable. “This is all wrong,” he said with great passion. “He was going to kiss Sally. He loves Sally. He should be with Sally.”

Kevin would never allow Devin to know how much this turn of events disheartened him as well. It truly did. But he was worried his partner might actually spiral into a secondhand depression if he didn’t keep him calm. “Whatever will be, will be,” he said. 

Devin didn’t want to hear it.

“Don’t Que Sera me, _Kevin_ ,” he said, rather testily. “Agent Smolder and Agent Sally _should be_. They _should have been_ a long time ago.”

A short time later, Devin was getting the mail before making lunch when he saw Mulder enter Hegal Place with a giggly blonde woman on his arm. The agent winked at him as they went past, and it was so unlike him, Devin was thoroughly befuddled.

“You need to talk me down, Kev,” Devin gritted into his cell phone when he was safely back in the apartment. He sat with his back against the front door, listening for any activity in the hallway. 

“What happened now?” Kevin asked.

“Agent Smolder brought home some blonde floozy. In the middle of the day!” Devin whined. “He’s in there with her right now.”

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting a bit?”

“I am not overreacting!” Devin insisted. “First McBitchy Boobs, now the blonde. There’s something wrong with him, I just know it. Something is off.”

As Kevin attempted to calm him down, Devin heard Agent Sally’s familiar clunky heels pass by and, as he heard the blonde pass her and step into the elevator, hoped against hope nothing too salacious had gone down in forty-two. Surely there hadn’t been enough time for that. But he was still disturbed by this unusual behavior from the practically monk-like agent. It seemed Agent Mulder had begun some kind of wild rebound-bender after his failed attempt with Sally.

To make matters worse, later that day Devin noticed another commotion down the hallway. When he peeked out to look, he saw some delivery men carrying up an enormous bed frame. Mulder stood against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest, watching these events with smug satisfaction. He noticed Devin staring and made his way over.

“What do you say?” Mulder asked his neighbor. “Think the ladies’ll love it?”

“Uh….” Devin said, bewildered. He gave Mulder a bit of side-eye. “What ladies?”

Mulder didn’t seem to notice his comment. “Can I ask you a question?” Devin stared at him as he reached into his pocket, flashing his badge. “It’s okay, I’m with the FBI.”

Devin blinked. “Um… yeah, I know who you are,” he replied carefully. “Are you feeling okay, Agent Mulder?”

Mulder glanced from side to side. “Right, right, I’m sorry, of course we’ve met.” He cocked his head and gave a thousand-megawatt smile, tapping his temple. “The old memory, you know.”

Devin didn’t know, but he nodded. Over Mulder’s shoulder, he saw bed posts being carried into the apartment.

“Anyway, I have a partner, maybe you’ve seen her around? Red hair, kind of short? A little bossy?” 

“Yeah…?” Devin asked, thoroughly confused, given their previous, even fairly recent, interactions. “What about her?”

“She’s a hot little thing, huh?” Mulder said lasciviously.

Devin almost choked on his tongue. “Excuse me?”

“Do you happen to know… what kind of food she likes, movies, stuff like that?” The agent distractedly waved more guys into the hallway, carrying more homewares. 

Devin’s jaw hung open. He had no idea what to say. “She’s your... partner, right? I mean, I don’t know much about her.”

Mulder’s eyes widened, as if realizing he’d made some kind of critical error. “Never mind. Hey, how about we don’t mention this conversation again, what do you say?”

Devin nodded, his eyes narrowed. “Um… okay.” He wouldn’t know what to say even if they did.

When Kevin got home a few hours later, Devin considered telling him what had happened, but he honestly had no idea where to even start. Luckily, he didn’t have to think of an opening, because not long after Kevin arrived, Mulder was at their door again. This time, Kevin answered it.

“Cooking emergency!” Mulder yelled in his face. “Do you have an apron I can borrow?”

Kevin blinked, turned to look at Devin. Devin shrugged helplessly. “Sure, hang on,” Kevin said, leaving the door open. Mulder bounced on his heels nervously, glancing back at his apartment every few seconds. Kevin went back to the kitchen and grabbed a white apron with the words _Something Smells GOOD_ written across the front. He handed it to Mulder.

“Thanks, man,” Mulder said gratefully. “Marinara sauce on my best shirt isn’t a great look for the ladies.” He raised his eyebrows a couple of times and was gone.

Kevin closed the door. “What was that all about?”

“Right?! ” Devin asked, standing up. “What the Helen Hunt is going on?”

“Who are these ‘ladies’ he’s referring to?” Kevin asked curiously.

“He was acting so weird earlier!” Devin exclaimed, bursting to unload all of his information. “First of all, he was home in the middle of the day again, and he was having new furniture delivered.”

Kevin made a small pout and looked up, considering this with raised eyebrows. “His place really is due for a remodel.”

“It was, I’m certain, a _waterbed_ , Kevin.”

“Oh.”

“With a _mirrored ceiling_ on the bed frame.”

Kevin blinked, now completely diverted. “Huh.”

“He was asking me if I knew things about Sally, like… stuff she liked? I didn’t have the heart to tell him I haven’t even really met her.”

Kevin looked concerned. “I think you’re right, I think something weird is going on. Even weirder than that time he hung up all those freaky monster drawings in his living room.”

“Do you think maybe he’s having some kind of psychotic break?” Devin asked. “I mean, what if he has actually lost his grip on reality?” He approached Kevin and took his hands, eyes wide. “Do you think… it’s possible that he and Sally never even talked about that kiss?”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “No way,” he said. “I mean… those two seem hopeless but they can’t be _that_ hopeless.”

They looked at each other for a moment, eyes searching each other’s. And suddenly, with a flash of clarity, they both knew the truth. 

Mulder and Sally were _exactly_ that hopeless.

  
  
  
  


**March, 1999**

After the “ladies” debacle, Hegal Place was uncharacteristically quiet for a couple of months, save for a biohazard snafu that had cleared out the entire building. Kevin and Devin hadn’t been sure what exactly was at the bottom of it, although they’d come to expect by now that Agent Mulder was probably involved. Their suspicions had borne out when they’d spotted a familiar female exiting the building; her ample bosom kept at bay by a full hazmat suit.

“Crazy-Eyed Cleavage is back, sans cleavage,” Devin had muttered to a sleepy, bedraggled Kevin, who had barely made the connection, as it was the middle of the night. 

“Shhh,” he’d hushed him, although he was no more overjoyed to see her face again, either. At least it (rather obviously) hadn’t been the same kind of house call as last time.

Kevin was headed off to work one Monday when he noticed Agent Mulder carrying pieces of furniture out of his apartment. While picking up his morning paper he’d heard through the grapevine (the grapevine being the super) that Mulder’s waterbed had leaked through into the apartment below. He now looked extremely annoyed as he carried a dripping piece of mattress past Kevin and down the stairs, the door to which he’d propped open.

But Kevin was not annoyed. Not at all, in fact. He quickly unlocked his apartment and darted back inside.

“Dev, come quick! You won’t want to miss this!” he hissed at his boyfriend, who was spreading Nutella onto a waffle while dressed only in his bathrobe. Devin looked up, alarmed, and booked it over to the door. He held it open as Kevin left the apartment, walking towards the elevator.

“What? Where are you going?” he asked Kevin, confused.

“Wait for it. Just trust me,” Kevin said with a smile as he pressed the elevator button down. The doors closed and Devin stood alone in the doorway for a few moments, bemused. 

Presently their neighbor re-emerged, and Devin knew instantly why Kevin had alerted him to his presence in the hallway on this particular day.

Agent Mulder had no shirt on and was wearing pale yellow pajama bottoms. 

Practically see-through pale yellow pajama bottoms.

And, as the sexy agent drew closer, Devin noticed: _wet_ , practically see-through pale yellow pajama bottoms.

“Good morning, Agent Mulder!” Devin said cheerfully, trying his best to keep his eyeballs aimed higher than he wanted to. “Getting new furniture?”

Mulder stopped and scratched the back of his head. Devin felt extremely flushed; the novelty of being so close to his attractive, shirtless, and quite evidently well-endowed neighbor thrilling him to the bone.

“Yeah, my waterbed sprung a leak,” Mulder explained. Devin found it adorable how he said “water.” It was more like “worter.” 

“Can I help you with anything? Maybe cleaning up or something?” he asked.

Mulder shook his head. “No, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Sure you can,” Devin insisted. “I have no deadlines this week and honestly, I’m really pretty bored.”

Mulder looked down the hallway, then back at Devin. “I guess, if you don’t mind, yeah, I’d appreciate that,” he said gratefully. “I have a meeting at work I’m already late for.”

“Great!” Devin said. “Let me throw some clothes on and I’ll be right over.”

“Thanks,” Mulder said. “I should probably do the same.”

“No, it’s really, _really_ okay,” Devin said quickly. “You look nice in yellow.”

Mulder raised an eyebrow, amused. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Devin quickly threw on his nicest jeans and a loud paisley button-down shirt, and brushed his teeth as fast as possible, abandoning his breakfast for the more intriguing option of spending his morning with Agent Smolder. When he knocked on his neighbor’s door, Mulder had unfortunately changed into a suit, but Devin could hardly complain. 

“Sorry, my Dick Tracy suit is at the cleaners,” Mulder quipped.

Devin looked up, having obviously been caught staring. “Oh, haha…” he trailed off, although the image of Mulder in a head-to-toe yellow suit had now driven him to a separate distraction and he had to refocus.

“There are a few more pieces I could use some help carrying out,” Mulder said, gesturing for Devin to come in. Devin stepped over the threshold, more than a little buzzed to be entering Agent Smolder’s inner sanctum with the man himself present. “In the bedroom…” Mulder murmured, gesturing, and Devin had to stop himself from barrelling ahead of him and revealing his knowledge of the geography of the apartment, considering this door was always kept closed when Mulder was away. 

It had been a while since he’d been over to feed the fish and Devin couldn’t help but notice the apartment was much… cleaner. 

“Spring cleaning?” he asked. He couldn’t help himself.

“Oh, I, uh…” Mulder looked around the apartment. “Honestly, I don’t know what happened. I think maybe it was some kind of prank.” He looked suspiciously at Devin. “You guys weren’t in here while I was away in Nevada, were you?”

Devin shook his head no. They weren’t even aware Mulder had been anywhere recently. Nevada must have been a short trip: too short to warrant fish feeding.

“All my stuff got shoved in my hall closet… I dunno. Never mind.” He then muttered under his breath, “Guess that’s still an X-File.” 

Devin had no idea what this meant, but ignored it. As they wandered back into the bedroom, he noticed it had indeed been mostly cleared of junk and boxes, although odd bachelor-type specimens still peppered the area. He made a mental note to inspect this room more closely the next time he came over to feed the fish.

As he walked further inside, the wet carpet squished beneath his feet. “Oh, no,” Devin said, lifting his sodden shoes up. “I’ll bet the super wasn’t too happy about this.”

“He was not,” Mulder affirmed. “An entire paycheck later…”

Devin grimaced. “Sorry.”

Mulder shrugged. “It is what it is.” He looked over at the wall where two large mirrors leaned against it. “These can go first. Please.”

Devin walked over to them curiously. “You’re getting rid of these?”

Mulder eyed him. “Not my style. Why, you want them?”

“Uh, yeah,” Devin said with a _duh_ inflection. “May I?”

“Be my guest,” Mulder said. “We won’t have to carry them as far.”

Devin was dying to know, and he felt like now was his only opportunity. “Can I ask… did they work?”

Mulder looked confused. “Did what work?”

“You know,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially as his voice dropped to a whisper. “ _With the ladies_.”

“Ha!” Mulder exhaled ruefully, looking at the mirrors. “No… no, they did not.” He turned his head towards Devin. “Were they supposed to?”

Devin suddenly remembered he wasn’t meant to recollect that conversation, and figured Mulder was just playing along.

“Never mind, I gotcha,” Devin said, and winked enthusiastically. Mulder drew his face into a look of utter confusion, then glanced at his watch. 

“Guess we’d better get these out of here, I really have to run.”

After the two men hauled the mirrors and bedposts into Devin and Kevin’s bedroom, Mulder waved goodbye and, with a heartfelt thanks, headed off to work. 

  
  


***

  
  


It had been a long day, and Kevin was eager to get home and recharge. He’d called Devin to stick a chardonnay in the fridge, and Devin had replied that there was a surprise waiting for him. Kevin knew what that typically meant, and hung up the phone with an eager grin.

Lost in sensual thoughts of what his boyfriend might have in store for him at home, he barely noticed the man who stepped onto the elevator next to him. But after a few seconds of silence, Kevin felt his stare like it was an actual laser beam. He turned towards its source and was greeted with the welcome but somewhat unsettling sight of a curiously handsome stranger with a goatee and earnest-looking eyes that were boring into him with eerie intent.

“Hello…” Kevin said, as an opening. The man nodded slightly.

“I’m Kevin. I live on the fourth floor.” He extended his hand, but the guy didn’t take it.

“Phillip. Phillip Padgett,” the man said. He was soft-spoken and appeared to be thinking hard.

“Are you new in the building?”

Phillip nodded slightly. His affect was odd; it appeared like he wasn’t really even there, as if Kevin was only imagining him. The entire encounter felt uncomfortable. Neither of them spoke again for several seconds.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Phillip,” Kevin smiled. “I’m sure you’ll find the residents of Hegal Place friendly and welcoming enough.”

“Thank you,” Phillip said. And then: “You know, Georg Wilhelm Hegel developed the concept of absolute idealism,” he suddenly said, staring straight ahead at the doors. “Hegelian thought. The dualism of the mind and the world around us can coexist as a comprehensive whole.”

Kevin looked at him blankly. “Um...”

Just then, the elevator doors opened. Phillip turned towards him and smiled, almost as if interrupting the spell he himself had created. “You take care, Kevin.” 

He stepped out of the elevator and headed down the hallway, unlocking the door directly next to Agent Mulder’s. It wasn’t until the elevator doors had closed that Kevin realized he’d forgotten to get off.

He went all the way back down and when it reached the bottom, he pushed the ‘4’ again and went right back up. He stepped off in a daze, unlocked the apartment, and was about to regale his partner with the news of their brand new neighbor when Devin grabbed him by the hand and led him quickly into the bedroom.

“Missed me, eh?” Kevin laughed. He’d expected Devin to be in an amorous mood.

He was not expecting, however, to see a brand new set of bed posts adorning their bed, complete with two large mirrored panels above it. 

Devin threw himself down on top of the comforter. “Come over here, check it out!”

Kevin gaped at the monstrous addition, not really sure whether he liked it or not. “What have you been doing all day?”

“Just come here,” he said, sitting up and tugging on his boyfriend’s hand. Kevin obliged, and they lay side-by-side, staring up at themselves in the mirror.

“Tell me this didn’t come from where I think it did.” Kevin asked.

“It sure did,” Devin said gleefully. “These mirrors have looked down upon Agent Smolder in all of his yellow-pajama-pants glory.”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “It really doesn’t match the bedroom decor, Dev.”

Devin sat up. “There is no way you’re making me get rid of these,” he declared. “It will happen over my dead body.”

“And it’s a lovely body,” Kevin said playfully, patting Devin on the stomach. “But we should talk about this. I promise we can enjoy them tonight, at the very least, okay?”

Devin smiled, and leaned in to kiss Kevin with enthusiastic agreement. 

The mirrors may not have had any effect on the ladies, but for Kevin and Devin, they worked wonders.

  
  
  
  
  
  



	8. Aphrophil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smolder gets an overnight guest.

**April, 2000**

It had been a stressful few days at the office for Kevin: parsing through a never-diminishing pile of legal documents, issuing press releases and fielding endless queries with regards to the Microsoft antitrust judgement that had just been issued. If he never heard the words _monopolization_ , _Conclusions of Law_ , and _appeal_ again, it would be entirely too soon. 

Devin had only that morning arrived home from a visit to meet his first nephew, so Kevin had been fending for himself at the apartment for a few days as well, and his reliance on take-out was getting out of hand. He was looking forward to the resumption of Devin’s home cooked meals.

The high winds had blown down several trees in the afternoon, causing havoc on the beltway, and his mother called him on his drive home. She had some sort of sixth sense about when he was tired and weak; when she’d more easily be able to get under his skin. She picked at his insecurities with sly insults disguised as innocent remarks that gave her plausible deniability when he inevitably lost his cool and snapped at her. As ever, her guilt trip was working, and he vowed to call her back and apologize, just as soon as he had sloughed off the day in the shower. 

He called out a greeting to Devin as the door to apartment forty-five clicked shut behind him, and took a moment to relax, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the hollow wood. He inhaled deeply, dropping his shoulders to let the tension leave his body, picturing his troubles sliding all the way down to the polished, waxed floor. 

The urgent knock directly behind his crown made him jump, his arms twitching up violently the way he sometimes shocked himself out of sleep when dozing. Whoever was there had appeared very swiftly, as the hallway had been empty when he’d arrived home. He sighed quietly, steeling himself for whatever was on the other side of the door, and turned.

Agent Mulder stood on the threshold, looking anxious. He had on what looked like a work suit, minus the jacket, tie askew and top button undone, his shirt sleeves rolled up haphazardly to his elbows. He was balancing an elongated duffel carrier on one shoulder -- Kevin pegged it as a ski bag -- with a black plastic briefcase jammed beneath the same arm and a brown leather suitcase in each hand. He looked as harried as Kevin felt.

“Hey man, how you doing, you good?” Agent Mulder asked. He didn’t sound like he was waiting for a real answer, and a vaguely panicked look in his eyes made Kevin feel like he wanted to hurry this along.

“I’m okay, thank you,” Kevin answered, his hand resting heavily on the doorknob. “And you? Everything... okay?” He ran his eyes over Mulder’s unwieldy cargo, frowning.

“I uh-” Mulder glanced behind him at his open door, then along the hallway to the elevator. “Can I ask you a favor?”

Kevin tilted his head, curious. “Fish again, is it? You’re only just back from England. Off again so soon?”

Mulder hastily shook his head and opened his mouth to offer an explanation, but there was a rustling from behind Kevin, and Devin padded out from the living room. “Who is it, honey?”

Kevin pulled the door open fully as he announced their guest. “Mulder.”

Devin wandered up beside him, “Ooh, to what do we owe _this_ pleasure,” he trilled.

“Hi Devin,” Mulder croaked out on a long blink, before taking a step towards them, furtively. “Hey, listen, I’m in a bit of a spot. I need to, ah, clear a bit of space… quickly... _really_ quickly. I’m wondering if you guys could help me out here? I just need somewhere to put a few things for tonight. I can come by tomorrow and get them out of your hair, I just… I really need to declutter, and fast. Like, super fast.” He peered over towards the elevator again.

Kevin wondered what could possibly be so urgent that these items needed to be removed from number forty-two at this very instant. It had the illicit feel of stashing his Playguy magazines under his mattress when one of his parents would knock on his teenage bedroom door.

“Of course, no problem at all,” Devin announced loudly, reaching for the suitcases. He dumped them beneath the coat hooks next to the door. 

Mulder shrugged off the ski bag, looking sheepish. “Thank you. There’s… there’s more.”

Devin threw his shoulders back, his Pretenders shirt lifting a mite to reveal his happy trail, which was in need of a little pruning. “Show us,” he breathed, already marching barefoot across the hall and through Agent Mulder’s entranceway. “Grab the key, Kev,” he tossed over his shoulder as he led the charge.

Mulder looked at Kevin with both apology and gratitude in his eyes. He set down the briefcase right there in the hall and followed Devin into his own apartment. “I- in the bedroom,” he stuttered. 

Kevin checked he still had his keys about his person, and tugged the door almost shut, heading through the dining area and into the living room as Mulder turned right into the bedroom. Kevin hung back in the doorway, keeping one eye on their own apartment as best he could. He had not forgotten all the break-ins in recent years.

Devin was standing at the foot of the unmade bed -- unmade on both sides, Kevin noted with intrigue -- his hands on his hips, his head swivelling this way and that as he took in the state of the room about him. Mulder looked from side to side, his eyes downcast as they passed over shameful piles of cardboard boxes, Tupperware containers and rumpled clothes. He had been demoted to supporting artist within this shambolic _mise en scène_ ; this was Devin’s show now.

“This got out of hand since I was last here,” Devin commented, and Mulder visibly winced. “Company coming?” Devin checked, pressing his lips together, still looking around at the accumulated detritus of bachelordom.

“Yeah,” Mulder affirmed quietly. 

“How long do we have?” Devin raised a dark, untamed eyebrow and peered at Agent Mulder intently.

Mulder shook his head and shrugged, unsure. “Ten, fifteen minutes?” he ventured, checking his wristwatch.

Devin nodded. “We got this,” he assured him, leaping forwards and grabbing a green blanket and some sort of concertinaed metal contraption and shoving them into Agent Mulder’s arms. He piled two enormous bound encyclopedic volumes on top, and pointed back through the apartment. “Go,” he instructed.

Mulder scampered off, and Kevin was presented with a gray plastic toolbox so heavy he had to use two hands to support it, and a pile of old newspapers tied up with string. Devin gathered up the various mounds of jeans, T-shirts, socks and -- yes -- at least one pair of worn boxers, pushing them all into the base of the freestanding canvas wardrobe that stood in front of the built-in closet, definitively zipping the front closed. The whole room screamed frat boy, Kevin thought to himself. It smelled a little frat boy as well.

Devin reached up and lifted down the basketball hoop that was wedged over the closet cornice, rushing it over to Kevin, tucking it under a spare elbow. He then launched up onto the bed, straining to reach for the ceiling. Kevin lifted his head to see several yellow pencils sticking into the plaster, schoolboy darts dangling down like stalactites. Devin pulled one down with some difficulty, squeezing it between two knuckles while balancing on the balls of his feet just as Agent Mulder reentered the room. 

“Let me get those,” he mumbled, joining Devin in standing on the bed, easily reaching the pencils with his arms still bent. 

“Don’t want to impale your visitor,” Devin smiled, peering up at Mulder, who returned his look with a knowing eyebrow-raise.

Devin grinned, jumping down to find something else to squirrel away. He made directly for the corner of the room and dismounted a frame from the wall.

“My Ewing jersey!” Mulder exclaimed, clambering down from the mattress and dropping the pencils onto the chest of drawers, next to a lamp and an open packet of sunflower seeds. 

_“Female_ company?” Devin eyed him.

“Yes,” Mulder said, a little faster and a touch louder than might have been necessary.

“It should go.” Devin said, gravely. “We’ll keep it safe, don’t worry.” He nodded at Kevin, indicating they could leave. “We’ll be right back for those cardboard boxes.”

“No time, fellas,” Mulder said, sounding pained. “I gotta shower.”

Devin paused, looking back at Agent Mulder. “Okay, well… Make that bed. Open a window to let a little air in, and… wow, get the super to fix that faucet at the first opportunity, that’s literally all I can hear.”

Mulder nodded, laughing. “I will. Thank you, Devin… Kevin… Thank you both so much. I owe you big time. I’ll come by soon for all these things.”

Devin shook his head, dismissing any need to repay the favor. “Attaboy, Mulder,” he winked, and nudged Kevin to lead the way.

Back in their apartment, Devin leaned the framed basketball shirt against a wall and regarded it with some distaste. Kevin struggled with the toolbox, newspapers, and backboard, trying to get them all to the floor without dropping anything as Devin turned to face him with palms upturned, his fingers splayed in excitement. He looked like he’d just heard Santa Claus was heading down the chimney.

“Can you believe he has _another_ girl coming over?” Kevin remarked, incredulous, sliding the newspapers down one leg, supported by the wall, balancing the toolbox on one hip. 

“Not just any girl, Kevin, it’s _got_ to be Sally this time,” Devin insisted. “He’s never bothered cleaning up before.” He gasped quietly and closed his eyes for a moment. “Oh my god it had better be Sally. I did not just restrain myself from pocketing Smolder’s dirty underwear out of respect for Busty the Neighbor Layer.” 

Kevin frowned disapprovingly, gently placing down the basketball hoop, but Devin wasn’t looking at him anyway. He stared into space, appearing anxious that Mulder might have relapsed into his indiscriminately amorous behavior of the previous year, and that someone other than Sally might be the focus of his emergency boudoir spruce up. 

Kevin bent at the knees and lowered the toolbox to the ground, lifting up the collapsed aluminum… thing… Agent Mulder had dropped off. He lay the forest green blanket beneath, protecting the flooring.

“I’m sure it’s her, honey,” he reassured Devin. “I haven’t seen that other one for months. And didn’t you just see Sally practically making out with his bandaged-up forehead a little while back? They’re way overdue for this.”

Devin looked troubled, his brow lined with concern. He shook his head. “I’m going to keep watch just in case.” He headed straight for the door and stood up on tiptoes to peer through the peephole.

“Honey,” Kevin sighed, pushing one hip out impatiently. “Are you going to be glued to the door all night?”

“Ten or fifteen minutes, Smolder said. Five minutes ago. You can leave if you want; I can’t rest until I know.”

Kevin checked the time on the oversized clock in the living room. The shower was calling him, but this was Sally and Smolder...

He joined Devin by the door. 

“Move over,” he murmured, and they both tried to maneuver their faces to see through the tiny aperture at the same time. 

They didn’t have too long to wait, playfully shoving one another’s arms out of the way, whispering teasing chastisements as they jostled for an equal view, Devin standing on the buffed toes of Kevin’s dress shoes for a vertical boost, much to Kevin’s chagrin. Presently, the elevator dinged and they fell silent, their throats constricted in strained anticipation as they both filled their lungs and held their breath, desperate to see whose slow, steady steps were approaching along the corridor. 

They gasped in perfect unison as the top of a neatly combed auburn head bobbed into sight, Sally softly announcing her presence with a subtle knock on Mulder’s door. 

They darted back with equal synchronization, startled, when she turned her head towards their apartment, probably alerted to their spying by the audible reaction to her arrival.

Kevin grimaced and covered his mouth, crouching down slightly, his excitement mixed with guilt at being almost caught intruding, but Devin simply pointed at the door and mouthed “ _Oh my god_!” He did a little victory leap on the spot, punching the air.

Kevin laughed, silently. He was filled with unbridled glee. They heard the door to number forty-two swing open and click gently shut again.

Kevin, feeling like a quarterback who’d just scored the winning touchdown, roared triumphantly, and despite having never done it together in their entire relationship, Kevin and Devin high fived, celebrating their ‘win’ with a jubilant, jumping hug. 

  
  


***

  
  


After they’d calmed down, Devin had gone to rustle up celebratory mai tais and kimchi, and Kevin had tidied up the collection of Agent Mulder’s belongings in the entrance hall before finally getting in the shower. As he dried off, rubbing a towel over his hair, Devin popped his head around the bathroom door. 

“Come here,” he beckoned. “Grab a robe.”

Kevin did as instructed and followed Devin out and through the apartment. At the door, he balked. “Where are we going, Dev? I’m not dressed.”

“We have to be quick,” Devin whispered, urgently. “I don’t know how long we have.” He snuck out into the hallway, heading right towards the window, then turned left towards the trash chute. He wasn’t carrying any garbage, but he held up a key in his hand so that Kevin knew it was okay to pull the door closed behind him.

“What are we _doing_?” Kevin whined as he pulled his robe around himself demurely, looking about him for signs of any other neighbors who might wonder what he was up to ambling about the building corridors in a state of undress.

Devin stopped halfway along the hallway and placed a forefinger to his lips, motioning at the inside wall with one thumb. Kevin frowned at him momentarily. This was the partition that bordered Agent Mulder’s apartment. If Kevin had his geography correct, they were right alongside -- _oh_. They were directly next to the bedroom.

Devin leaned his ear against the wall in a brazen absence of shame.

Kevin took another surreptitious glance behind him. “Devin,” he said. “That is such an invasion of-”

“I can hear them.” Devin interrupted.

Kevin’s ear was against the wall almost before Devin had finished his sentence.

At first, he heard nothing, then a rhythmic thudding travelled through the plaster. Over and over, something was pounding the wall. His eyes widened as he grinned at Devin, excitement spreading throughout his body. His jaw fell open.

 _Headboard._ Devin mouthed, jabbing with his finger, his eyes aglow. _They’re totally doing it!_

Kevin nodded slowly, beaming idiotically.

“Finally,” Devin whispered, “it’s not just Smolder and his tapes.”

They held each other’s gaze in thrilled agreement as they heard a muffled moan, and then another, even louder. It was a woman’s moan, and Devin reached out to grab Kevin’s hand, unable to contain his enjoyment of _her_ enjoyment.

“Oh my god, yes, _Sally_ ,” Mulder’s voice encouraged, just about decipherable through the studs and plastered laths, if Kevin crushed his ear a little.

Sally answered him in turn, gasping his last name between moans and sighs. 

“Is she calling him _Mulder_ in _bed_?” Devin asked through a quiet laugh.

It all became rather too much for Kevin, who leaned away and fanned his face, despite his lack of layers.

Devin also stood back, and by this time the cries from inside number forty-two were audible without them having to strain against the dividing wall. He raised his eyebrows a couple of times, suggestively.

“Go Agent Smolder,” Kevin breathed, a hot blush rising in his cheeks as the thumping from within the bedroom picked up tempo.

“Go Sally,” Devin giggled, as her calls grew louder and more urgent. 

“Hey Kev,” he began, keeping his voice low. “Wanna go back to our apartment now?” He stepped closer and reached up with both hands, holding onto the lapels of Kevin’s slightly dampened terry cloth robe. Kevin knew that his own arousal was plainly obvious against his boyfriend’s soft stomach. There was no use denying the incredibly erotic effect the sounds of Mulder and Sally’s lovemaking was having on him. Devin brushed against him, pressing deliberately into the inviting hardness between them, and looked up at Kevin through long eyelashes, a slow smile revealing his teeth one by one.

Kevin took him by the hand and ducked back along the corridor just as Mulder’s bed made violent contact with the dividing wall one final time, the agents inside namechecking one another in vociferous ecstasy. 

Before too long, Kevin and Devin were fervently adding their own voices to the amatory mix, Agent Mulder’s mirrored panes reflecting their libidinous union back down upon them.

  
  


***

In the morning, Kevin rolled over to find the bed already cooling on Devin’s side. It was unlike Devin to awake early, and certainly to be up first, particularly on a weekday. 

Kevin found him glued to the peephole once again, dressed in running gear and sipping on a mug of coffee. He _shhhd_ Kevin without looking back. “I’m waiting for Sally,” he explained.

“Of course you are.”

“Java’s on.” 

Kevin placed a gentle kiss on Devin’s cheek before pacing off to the kitchen.

He’d been staring through the confounded lens at the door to number forty-two for so long, Devin thought he was imagining it when he saw it start to swing open. Like an overeager sprinter poised on starting blocks, he’d had several false starts over the last thirty minutes or so when he’d thought he might have heard movement from across the hall, but then nothing had transpired. 

This time, he wasn’t jumping the gun. The door really was opening, and Sally was emerging, looking at her wristwatch. Devin flapped one arm about, trying to run in several directions at once, and at the last minute remembered to discard his coffee cup on the floor before slipping out the door backwards.

“Oh, hi!” he said, accidentally-on-purpose backing directly into Sally who was pulling Agent Mulder’s door shut behind her. “Good morning! So great to see you again. I’m just going out for a run.” 

Sally gave him one of her thin-lipped, terse smiles, and walked away towards the elevator. 

Devin was far from discouraged. He fiddled with the door until he heard the elevator car approach, then jogged along the corridor to join her for the ride down. 

“Nice to see another early riser,” Devin grinned across at her. Her hair was sleep-mussed -- and other-things-mussed, he knew. Her eyes bore the smeared remnants of yesterday’s make up, her lips swollen and wiped nude. Her skirt gave the distinct impression of having lain abandoned on a floor overnight, and she wore the same outfit he and Kevin had glimpsed through the peephole last night. With small puffy circles cushioning her eyes, she looked as though she’d hardly slept. 

Devin could not have been more delighted.

She was avoiding his eyeline, and hadn’t said a word, but she held her head high. Quite a difference from Tits and Bared Teeth, Devin mused. Now this was a classy dame, he thought, somewhat embarrassed to have her obvious morning-after abscondment witnessed, but too proud to blush about it. He felt an overwhelming rush of affection for this tightly buttoned woman whom he’d so recently heard coming completely undone.

“Mulder’s a really great guy, huh?” he murmured. 

She looked over at him now, meeting his gaze.

“I know I’ve always been happier, knowing he’s around.” Devin added.

At this, she nodded in concession, visibly softening, a small, genuine smile warming her tired face. He’d found their common ground.

“He doesn’t have a lot of company,” Devin couldn’t hold himself back from adding. “I’m sure he’s really glad you came last night,” he finished innocently, just barely leaning on the word ‘came’, fiddling absently with the waistband of his shorts. She was checking the time again and he saw her look up at him quickly in his peripheral vision, but managed to keep his own cool.

“I’m Devin, by the way,” he said softly, as a distraction, offering his hand as the elevator doors opened.

She reached out and shook it, and the strength in her grip increased his admiration for her tenfold. He grinned, not even trying to hide his adulation now.

“Dana,” she said, pumping his wrist once, decisively. “Enjoy your run.” 

“Wa- wait....” Devin sputtered to himself after a few seconds as she stalked through the lobby and out towards the street. “ _Dana_?!”

But she was gone.

He stood by the mailboxes for several minutes before heading back up the stairs to report back to Kevin, utterly bewildered. 

  
  


***

The year 2000 A.D.: the dawning of a new century, or was it the waning days of the old? In any case, the dot com bubble burst, the USA took home 37 gold medals at the Sydney Olympics, they recounted the votes in Florida. 

And over at 2630 Hegal Place, Alexandria, Virginia, Devin Li and Kevin Cargill disposed of an awful lot of garbage.


	9. Molly Ringwald

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smolder goes missing.

**May, 2000**

It was rare that Kevin was at home without Devin, but today was one of those days. The spring pollen was causing his allergies to act up severely, and it had evolved into a full-blown cold. Devin was dead set on seeing the cherry blossoms before they disappeared, as he had been every year since they’d moved to D.C., and rather than risk missing it, he’d left Kevin at home to rest.

The afternoon sun was fading away, the day melting into evening. Kevin had just made himself a soothing cuppa and was situating himself on the couch to do the crossword puzzle when Devin returned, boisterously injecting his vivacity into Kevin’s comfortable bubble.

“How were the blossoms?” Kevin asked, looking up from his crossword.

“Perfection, as always. But I have something more interesting to report,” Devin said as he plopped down onto the couch beside his boyfriend. “I’m not sure how I feel about it, though.”

“Agent Smolder sporting a do-rag on his evening run again?”

Devin made a face. “Ugh, no, thank god.” He hadn’t been a fan of that particular look. “So much for all of those running fantasies.”

Kevin grinned, the idea that something, anything, could lessen their neighbor’s attractiveness in his partner’s eyes amusing as all get-out. “So what is it, then?” he asked reluctantly, half expecting to hear about someone else having gotten shot, or another break-in, or similar disaster. “Another sweaty Russian wandering the halls?”

“That, I wouldn’t mind,” Devin said, raising an eyebrow. “But alas, no.”

“Tell me already,” Kevin said, a fresh wave of exhaustion taking over.

“I think Sally -- Dana, whatever her name is -- has replaced us as the primary fish feeder,” Devin said sadly.

“What makes you think that?” Kevin asked.

The truth was, they’d been so overjoyed at the consummation of the relationship between Smolder and Sally, they’d hardly noticed either of the agents’ comings and goings.

Well, they’d noticed the comings.

“Mulder went on a trip, he must have; Sally has been coming over to his apartment alone. What else could she be doing there?”

“Maybe she’s moving in?”

Devin shook his head. “I haven’t seen any moving vans or furniture or anything like that,” he pointed out. “She just comes by herself, is in there for a while, then leaves.”

Kevin sighed and slapped the crossword onto the coffee table, leaning back, rubbing his temples. Typically he’d be interested in this kind of information but he was finding it hard to muster the energy at the moment. “I’m sure everything is fine, Dev.”

“I hope the fish are okay, is all,” Devin shrugged. But Kevin knew better.

“I know you want to go check it out,” he said with resignation. “If you need my permission, you have it.”

“Sweetie, you don’t look so good,” Devin suddenly said, seeming to notice for the first time. “Want me to get you anything? Tylenol? Powerade? Those little cough drops that taste like licorice?”

“All of the above, please,” Kevin groaned. “I’m going to take a nap.”

Devin pulled the blanket up and around Kevin’s neck, feeling his warm forehead. “I’ll pop down to the drugstore and on my way back up I’ll check on those little fishies.”

Kevin hummed a noncommittal reply and turned onto his side, seeking rest. Devin turned around and headed back out of the apartment to fetch the proper sundries.

When he got back, rather than open the door to his own apartment, Devin turned around and quietly, almost hesitantly, unlocked Agent Mulder’s instead. Part of him felt a tad guilty for what could be misconstrued as an abuse of the man’s trust, but another part of him genuinely wanted to make sure the fish were actually being fed. He’d grown accustomed to the little mollies over the years, and was quite attached to several of them.

He opened the door and entered quietly, shutting it gently behind him. The apartment was dark, as per usual, and silent except for the hum of the fish tank. He made his way over to it, peering inside. 

He turned on the tank light and gasped when he saw a single fish, the white one with orange splotches, floating at the surface of the water. 

“Molly Ringwald!” he cried, not loudly, but he figured it was too loudly when he heard stirring in the other room. 

He clasped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. He began to sneak out, but he didn’t hear any more movement. He tiptoed quietly towards the bedroom door and peeked inside.

There, curled up into the fetal position on Mulder’s bed, was Sally. She wore what looked like an oversized gray T-shirt with an Oxford Athletics logo at the breast, which Devin recognized as one of Mulder’s running shirts. She was asleep, but her face was contorted into an expression of deep sorrow, and it nearly took Devin’s breath away to see it. 

He knew it was probably folly to do so but he stepped closer until he could see, quite clearly, that she had been crying. Before pressing his luck any further, he turned and walked out of the room quietly, his mind racing.

What was going on? It had only been a few days or so since Mulder had left, he assumed, based on when he could last recall seeing the man. What was Sally doing here without him? And crying?

He’d just closed and quietly relocked the door when he was surprised by a man approaching him in the hallway.

“You there!” the man barked at him. He looked to be mid-forties, with piercingly blue eyes and a cowboy-type demeanor. “What were you doing in there?”

Devin had never seen this man before in his life. “I was feeding the fish,” he said defensively. “I’m Mr. Mulder’s neighbor.” He pointed to his own door. “...And you are?”

“Ah, I see.” The man stopped and, as Devin was practically expecting, pulled out a badge. “John Doggett. Sorry if I scared you.” 

“Can I help you with something?” Devin asked, still situated between Mulder’s door and Agent Doggett. He felt oddly protective of Sally inside the apartment in such a vulnerable state, not wanting to let this guy in under any circumstances.

“Yeah, I’m in charge of the manhunt. I’ve been checking on Agent Mulder’s apartment every few days. I have to pick up some more of his things for the investigation.”

_Manhunt…?_ Devin thought.

“What manhunt?” he asked, curiously. Surely he didn’t mean…

John Doggett cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. “You mean you didn’t hear? Agent Mulder’s been missing for a week.”

“Missing?” Devin couldn’t believe his ears, yet again.

“Disappeared right into thin air, it seems,” Doggett replied. “The FBI has all hands on deck. If you’ll excuse me,” he said, attempting to push past Devin to get to the door.

“Actually, I don’t-” Devin blocked his way. “Now isn’t the best time,” he said sternly. 

“Oh yeah? And why is that?” Doggett retorted.

Suddenly, emotion overcame Devin that he couldn’t control. He thought of Sally inside, weeping on Mulder’s bed, now connecting every dot he needed to feel the weight of what was going on.

Why did these terrible things keep happening? Why wasn’t anything ever just… normal for the two of them? And now on top of it all, one of Mulder’s fish had perished as well? He felt utterly responsible for what was probably a small thing but which seemed, with Mulder’s apparent disappearance, so big.

“It’s just- Molly Ringwald died!” he cried. Tears started to flow freely, and Devin found it difficult to control his breathing.

Doggett instantly backed up, uncomfortable. “Whoa, easy, buddy,” he clapped him awkwardly on the shoulder. “Um.. who died?”

“The fish!” he wailed, absolutely despondent. “I need to get her out of there and clean the tank!”

“Uh...” Doggett said, faltering. “I can come back later, okay? Just... try to relax.” He shook his head and turned around, muttering to himself quietly. “What’s the deal with these fish?”

When John Doggett was gone and Devin was satisfied he’d left the premises, he ducked back inside his own apartment, relieved to find Kevin asleep peacefully on the couch. He wasn’t ready to deliver this blow, and every minute he could delay it was a silent relief.

  
  


***

  
  


Devin had waited with his ear pressed to the door for Sally to leave, then went back over to Mulder’s apartment to remove the dead molly, clean the tank, and give her a proper five flush salute. 

Over the next few days, he and Kevin noticed Sally again in the building, and after they’d offered the appropriate condolences and hopeful well-wishes, she’d thanked them with her standard stiff upper lip and swiftly excused herself before they could probe any further into her personal life. Devin had offered to keep feeding the fish, and she’d agreed to that, at least. He was relieved she had one less thing to worry about.

At one point they saw Sally in the lobby dressed all in black, collecting Mulder’s mail. Neither of them asked, but they feared the worst: perhaps this time there was no misunderstanding. Perhaps Agent Mulder’s number was truly up. 

After several weeks had passed, Devin noticed something different about Sally, and, if his suspicions were correct, he was even more relieved they’d taken something off her plate. She was starting to look somewhat thicker around the middle, with a distinct rounding at her lower abdomen. 

Both Kevin and Devin were cognizant of the “never assume anything” rule when it came to women’s bodies, but Sally had always been petite, always in great physical shape, as an agent on active duty. So they were both convinced this was not merely a few additional pounds she’d put on in the interim.

Agent Mulder's fate was still rather unclear to both of them, but as fall rolled into winter and his partner’s physique swelled in size, there was one thing they both agreed was certain: Sally was pregnant.

“It’s got to be Smolder’s baby,” Devin said definitively one day, in a particularly gossipy mood. 

“I don’t see how it couldn’t be,” Kevin agreed.

“God, this is so tragic. It’s like one of those sad Hallmark movies,” Devin moped. 

Kevin looked up, an idea in his eyes. “I wonder if there’s anything we can do for her?”

Devin brightened a bit. “Maybe, yeah,” he said. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to ask?”

They both got up and made their way to the door of number forty-two, hoping to catch Sally on one of her frequent visits.

Devin knocked, stood back, and waited. And when the door opened, in an overwhelming moment of déjà vu, they saw the one person they didn’t expect.

“Oh, hey guys,” Mulder said casually. He was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt.

Devin and Kevin clutched hands, and while they wanted to be utterly shocked, somehow finding Mulder back in his apartment alive and well felt fitting.

“You’re back!” Kevin said with relief. Devin just stared at Mulder’s biceps.

“Yeah, I can’t really believe it myself this time, to be honest,” Mulder said. His hand scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry I didn’t swing by, I’m still… recalibrating.”

“What happened?” Kevin asked.

“Um,” Mulder replied. “It’s a long story, I’m afraid. One that can’t be programmed, categorized, or easily referenced.” He grinned to himself as if he’d made a fantastic joke.

Suddenly Devin blurted out “I killed your fish!”

Mulder blinked. “Oh, yeah,” he said, as if remembering. “I was wondering what happened to that one.”

“I’m so sorry,” Devin said, utterly desolate, and Kevin put a comforting arm around him.

Mulder put both hands up. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Circle of life, these things happen.”

Devin took a deep breath. “I understand if you don’t trust us to feed them ever again,” he said. “I can give you your key back.”

“Hey,” Mulder said seriously, putting a hand on Devin’s shoulder. “I mean it, don’t stress. I have much bigger things going on right now than to worry about this.”

Devin nodded in acceptance. Mulder eyed his watch, which rested near Devin’s ear. “Anyway, I have someone coming over in a few minutes, so I’ve got to go. But thanks for checking in, okay?” He eyed his downcast neighbor again. “Don’t beat yourself up, Devin.”

He gave them a friendly wave, and as he closed his door, like kismet, the elevator doors opened with a _ding_. Sally stepped out and walked towards them, and if they had any doubts about her pregnancy before, there was no room for uncertainty anymore, quite literally. She looked like she was about to drop a litter at any minute.

Kevin grinned at her. “Guess he’s back, huh?”

Sally smiled in relief, a simple yet powerful display of contentment they’d rarely seen on her. “Yes, yes he is.” Her fingers went to the pendant hanging around her neck which Devin noticed for the first time was a small gold cross.

“Just in time, right?” Devin said, pointing at her stomach. Kevin kicked him in the shin.

Sally turned beet red and it was all they needed to know they had their answer. But she ignored his comment. “I’m just relieved he’s back,” she said instead. Her hands went protectively over her belly.

“You look amazing, by the way,” Devin said in an effort to rectify his misstep. “When my sister had my nephew, all the weight went right to her ass.” Another sharp kick from Kevin.

Sally forced a grin. “Thanks,” she said rather dubiously.

“You know, we’ve been talking about adopting,” Kevin said abruptly. He looked over to Devin nervously. “I mean… you know. Someday.”

“That’s wonderful,” Sally said, and she seemed genuinely happy for them. “Well, I’m due at Mulder’s, so… nice to see you guys,” she said, turning to beat a hasty retreat. They watched her open his apartment door and walk in like she owned the place.

Devin gave Kevin a huge, toothy grin. “Well, maybe those two are going to get their happy ending after all, huh?”

Kevin held their door open for him, smiling back. “Maybe so.”

  
  


***

  
  


It had been a couple of weeks since Mulder’s return. Summer was approaching and while it was still quite pleasant out, both Kevin and Devin knew it wouldn’t be long before they’d be kicking the air conditioner again.

The frequency with which they’d seen Sally coming and going from forty-two was suddenly replaced with the glaring absence of both agents. Rather than assume they’d both gone missing, they preferred to believe Mulder was simply staying at her place most nights instead.

They didn’t mind. It was such a thrill to see them both happy, they barely spared the fish a thought, and hoped if they were needed, Mulder would ask.

One weekend afternoon, Devin was watching a rerun of _Oprah_ while Kevin was in the shower. Oprah Winfrey was the closest Devin had to an icon, style or otherwise, and he was admiring a particularly brash fuschia jumpsuit when he heard a loud crash in the hallway. Devin peered out to see Mulder, crouched down on the floor, putting various belongings into a large cardboard box that seemed to have ripped open.

“Need some help?” Devin asked him eagerly, rushing out to assist with the scattered items.

“Oh, thanks,” Mulder said quickly. “Guess I put too much in here.”

Devin retrieved some books, a few movies, and an electric razor. When he began picking up pieces of clothing he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at his neighbor. “And where are you taking all of this stuff, Agent Mulder?” he asked coyly.

“Oh, you know, just… with the baby coming, we’ve been spending a lot more time together. Coming back and forth is getting exhausting.”

“I can only imagine,” Devin said, knowing full well he would later be ‘imagining’ what Agent Mulder had been doing to exhaust himself over at Sally’s apartment.

“You can drop the ‘Agent,’ by the way,” Mulder added. “I’m currently unemployed.”

Devin grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

Mulder shook his head. “No, it’s okay, really. I’ve got… other things to think about right now anyway.”

“I’ll bet,” Devin said, dropping the last item, which was a red toothbrush, into the box with dramatic flair. “So will your fish be… spending a lot of time over there, as well?”

“Actually, I was meaning to ask you… do you think you can feed them for a while? Just until everything settles down.”

“Of course,” Devin smiled. 

After Mulder thanked him and left, Devin went back to forty-five and closed the door gently. It was such a strange comfort to see their neighbor moving on, living his life. Even after all of the terrible things he and his partner had gone through, somehow the two of them were doing whatever they could to make it work.

With a newfound confidence in what he was about to propose, he stepped over to the bathroom and knocked a couple of times.

“Hey Kev?”

“Yeah?” his partner said. “Come on in.”

Devin opened the door and stepped inside, seeing Kevin at the sink with a towel around his waist, shaving.

“I was thinking…” Devin began, “...that maybe it’s time to talk about moving.”

Kevin stopped his shave mid-cheek, and turned around curiously, a gleam of hope in his eyes.

“Oh yeah?”

Devin nodded, returning his smile. “This place won’t be big enough for three.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back tomorrow with the final chapters! Thanks to everyone for leaving us feedback, we truly appreciate every single kudo and comment!


	10. Bodianus Frenchii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s the end of an era for the residents of Hegal Place.

**May, 2001**

  
  


Kevin and Devin were having an afternoon snooze on the couch after consuming an impressive amount of homemade potstickers when a soft knock came at the door. Devin started awake, sitting upright and picking half a stray dumpling from the front of his shirt, popping it into his mouth. Kevin prised open his eyes and stretched, and the knock sounded again. At this, Kevin jumped up, calling out “Just a moment!” as he hurried over to answer. Devin followed him with a sleepy gait.

“Forty-two,” Kevin smiled, as he pulled the door wide, leaning against the doorframe. “The prodigal neighbor returns.”

In the hallway, Agent Mulder smiled sheepishly. Devin wandered up next to Kevin and leaned against him, resting his chin on his boyfriend’s shoulder, which he could manage only due to Kevin’s lazy slouch.

Blue jeans. Deep blue T-shirt. Black leather jacket. Hair dutifully ruffled.

Devin approved.

Behind Smolder, his front door was propped open, and inside Devin could see three familiar figures hastily stacking up boxes and emptying shelves. It appeared the couch and other furniture had already been removed.

“So, you two are finally taking the plunge, huh, going all in? Shacking up?” Devin probed.

Mulder shifted uneasily. “Handing over my key and everything,” he confirmed. “I just wanted to stop by and thank you both before I go. You’ve been great, helping me keep the fish going for all these years. I know… I know it can’t have been easy all the time, having me as a neighbor.” He looked from Devin to Kevin, his eyes reiterating his heartfelt gratitude.

“Hey,” Kevin smiled. “What’s an occasional hallway homicide between friends?”

They all laughed gently, happy to relieve some tension by naming what had for so long gone undiscussed. 

“I wondered,” Mulder went on, “can I grab your spare key to give back to the super?”

Kevin headed to the kitchen to retrieve it. He came back with the key and a small gift-wrapped package. “We’ve been waiting to catch you,” he said, offering both to their soon-to-be ex-neighbor. “It’s just a little something.”

Mulder took the present in his left hand and the key in his right. Devin noticed he was staring at the latter, and followed the agent’s gaze to the lightly scratched plastic keyfob resting in his palm.

The lightly scratched plastic keyfob featuring the scantily clad but heavily muscled model, whose ruby-red briefs were at this precise moment receding from view to reveal a generously proportioned phallus.

For a seemingly inordinate amount of time, nobody moved, three pairs of eyeballs glued to the cheerfully obscene trinket in Mulder’s hand.

“Well,” Devin finally piped up, breaking the mortifying spell. “You probably don’t want to keep _that_.” He gingerly took back the offending item and hurriedly twisted the key off the metal ring, pressing it back into Mulder’s palm and pocketing the keyfob as fast as he could. He smiled weakly. 

Mulder laughed through his nose, giving a barely perceptible nod.

Kevin came to Devin’s aid, trying to steer the interaction back to safer territory. “We got you a little parting gift,” he said, coughing slightly.

“You shouldn’t have,” Mulder said, apparently just as relieved as Devin was by the change of subject. He tore it open. It was an apron, dark navy or black -- it was hard to tell in the hallway lighting -- and bore the motto SOMETHING SMELLS GOO-OOD! in all caps. He thanked them, politely, with what looked like feigned enthusiasm.

“It’s like mine,” Devin explained. “The one you borrowed that time.”

Mulder looked at him blankly.

“Anyway,” Devin continued after a beat. “We thought maybe you could use it, now that you’re a domesticated family man.”

Mulder smiled with a hint of sadness behind his eyes that gave Devin slight pause, before reaching into his back pocket and retrieving a creased Polaroid. “Speaking of which,” Mulder said, holding it out for Kevin to take. “Unto us a son is given.”

Devin abandoned all worries about the keyfob and Mulder’s state of mind to snatch the photograph from his hand, gasping. He clutched it to his own chest in adoration for a second or two, then wrenched it back up to his face, and examined it with the close attention of a jeweler inspecting a precious stone. 

The glossy square held the image of an elfin newborn, with delicate skin and fine, sparse hair, fast asleep and wrapped in a white blanket, his light blue onesie threatening to overwhelm his minuscule form. His mouth was pursed open, his fingers curled up tight.

“Name?” Devin demanded, relinquishing the snapshot to Kevin’s curious grasp.

“William,” Mulder answered with quiet gravitas. “After my father.”

“He’s beautiful,” Kevin said, looking up to catch Mulder’s gaze. “Just like his Mom.”

Devin thought he saw tears forming in Mulder’s eyes, but the seasoned agent looked down, perhaps to hide them. A few moments passed.

“Well, you keep in touch, Mulder,” Kevin said, gazing back down at the photo. “We want to know how this little guy gets on.”

“Of course, of course.” Mulder murmured. Then, “Hey, a little birdie tells me you two are thinking about becoming fathers yourselves.”

Kevin finally tore his eyes away from the image to toss Devin a sentimental glance. Devin smiled in return. Kevin handed back the Polaroid. “We’re looking into it,” he confirmed. “Lots to think about.”

Mulder nodded, raising his eyebrows, tucking the photograph back into his jeans. “Hold on,” he said. “I have a little something for you, too.” 

He disappeared back into his apartment for a second, audibly digging around in the kitchen cupboards. As he made his way back through the dining room holding an empty glass bowl, Mulder reached into a small cardboard box on the dining table emblazoned with the words _Bob’s Aquatic Emporium_. From within the confines of the box he lifted a plastic baggie filled with water. 

Back in the hallway, he held out his offerings, along with a part-used tub of Tetra flakes. A little red molly swam about in the bag. Devin held it up for a closer view. “Looks like Signor Gonzales!” he smiled. 

Mulder tilted his head questioningly, and Devin waved off his silent enquiry as unimportant.

“Before I thought about becoming a parent, I practiced on fish,” Mulder continued, solemnly. 

Kevin thanked him softly, taking the bowl and placing it on a table near the door, and Mulder removed a battered paperback entitled _Practical Fishkeeping: A Beginner’s Guide_ from under his left armpit.

At this moment, the three other occupants of number forty-two began to exit, each carrying a box or two. Devin was certain he’d seen each of them wearing these exact outfits before.

“Hey, guys, this is Kevin,” Mulder gestured, “and Devin.” 

Each of the three men nodded in turn as they filed past, introducing themselves.

“Langly.”

“Frohike.”

“Byers.”

 _Do all these guys only have a last name?_ Devin thought. What, had they all been in the army together or something?

“Okay well, I’m gonna go drain the tank and tape the last of the boxes,” Mulder wrapped up. “I just wanted to say goodbye and thanks: really, guys, thanks for everything.”

Kevin dropped his head shyly, but Devin boldly stepped forward and took Mulder into a firm bear hug, the water-filled baggie resting on the taller man’s flexing trapezius. 

“Oh,” Mulder said, apparently surprised by this amount of bodily contact, but he returned the gesture, committing to the moment. When Devin let go, Mulder shrugged at Kevin and held his arms open for another one. Kevin demurely obliged, but for significantly fewer seconds than Devin. He finished the farewell with a handshake.

“Good luck,” Kevin offered, and Mulder pointed at the pair of them in a dorky manner.

“And you guys,” he responded, before adding: “Gotta run, I should be getting back.”

“Yes, every moment is so precious at this age,” Kevin said.

“Yeah,” Mulder mused under this breath. “You’re right.” His shoulders sagged as he turned away, giving them a gentle wave as he disappeared back into his apartment. 

Kevin shut the door dreamily, laying one arm across Devin’s shoulders as he grabbed the fishbowl. They ambled towards the kitchen.

Random shootings and hallway massacres aside, having Agent Mulder as a neighbor had always been a major reason for them feeling so at home at Hegal Place, and they were both sad to see him go. Devin was glad he’d left them with a little token to remember him by. He knew it wouldn’t be the same from here on out, but he hoped they’d get to see Smolder and Sally again someday.

They half filled the bowl in companionable contemplation, with Devin poking at the bag now and again, trying to get the fish to notice him. “Hey little Fox,” he cooed, glancing sidelong at Kevin.

“Absolutely not.” Kevin stated flatly. 

Devin pouted and fluttered his eyelids. “No? We’ll get him a little yellow friend? Name it PJ Pants?”

“No way in hell.”

After they’d rested the baggie in the water to acclimatize, they set the fishbowl on the counter and gazed at it.

Kevin reached for his boyfriend’s hand as they watched the molly bob about. 

“So we’ll practice,” he said.

“We’ll practice,” Devin affirmed. He sighed deeply, and after a few seconds of silence, added, “I’m sure gonna miss that guy.”

Kevin smiled, pulling his boyfriend in for a good, long hug.

Devin spoke again, his voice muffled in the crook of Kevin’s neck and shoulder. “Good thing we’ve decided to move. This building is going to be so boring now.”

Kevin laughed. 

“Dull as dishwater, darling.”


	11. Epilogue: Speedo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long-standing mystery is solved.

**Epilogue**

**October, 2019**

It was a moment of pure and simple happiness Fox Mulder had never dared hope he might experience. 

Scully was tucked beneath his shoulder with an arm clamped tightly around his waist, wrapped up warm in her camel-toned overcoat and an old scarf that used to belong to him, a gloved hand playing thoughtfully with the tiny gold cross about her neck. Daggoo, their purloined pound terrier, a living, barking testament to her spectacular if occasional rule-flouting, was secured to a nearby railing. They hadn’t meant to bring him; he’d stowed away in the trunk of the car as they’d loaded up, just as headstrong and tenacious as his literary counterpart.

Tawny leaves caught amber beams of low-slung fall sunshine, and several buildings were already bedecked with Halloween decorations, which had always struck him as reassuringly domestic. The ability to display drug-store skeletons, tilting plastic gravestones and other paraphernalia of the macabre with casual irreverence was a surefire marker that any inhabitants gave little thought to such things the rest of the year. 

Scully indulged his penchant for spooky festoonments, but had never felt the personal need to augment their home with seasonal symbols of death and loss, to call up ghosts and ghouls with kitschy decor. She carried such things in her heart, he knew: quotidian, no matter what the impending occasion.

But lately, Mulder was trying not to dwell so much on those who were not present. Today in particular, he was exceptionally grateful for those who were.

If he had sat his twenty-year-old self down, even perhaps his forty-year-old-self, and told him he’d be voluntarily spending his fifty-eighth birthday in a children’s playground, he would have been less ready to believe it than any case file on spontaneous human combustion, sewer-dwelling flukemonsters, or extraterrestrial shapeshifters.

The swing rose up towards him: his daughter -- _their_ daughter -- seated face-forwards behind the lap-bar, her splayed legs ensconced in a probably overly-protective winter romper suit and kicking with the unparalleled exhilaration of an infant in motion. He gave her a goofy smile and crossed his eyes as she reached her apex, and Scully echoed the gargling chuckle the baby emitted as he softly pushed her backwards into yet another gentle arc. Whenever she started to feel herself slow down, she would squawk with some urgency until her velocity was renewed; and she did not tire easily.

Carrot-tinged tufts of silky-fine hair stuck out from beneath her white woollen hat, a gift Scully’s mother had knitted for William that no one had ever gotten around to throwing out. They combined with the pinks in her full Gerber-pouted lips to blend seamlessly with the hues of the October park. 

Lily. Their perfect little autumn miracle.

She gave a shriek of joy just as Mulder was almost taken out at the knees by a passing preschooler running at full speed. The force slammed him into Scully, who was sent flying and had to take evasive action in order to avoid getting kicked in the side of the head by the first grader on the next swing. After Mulder checked that she remained unscathed, he stepped backwards to avoid a similar fate with Lily, and looked down to inspect his knee-high assailant, whom he’d caught by the shoulders on instinct.

It was a little girl of no more than four, with pristine little bunches on either side of her head, her pitch-black hair neatly combed and parted with mathematical precision down the center. She stared up at him with enormous eyes, a trail of dried snot just visible snaking out of one nostril. The scarlet hoodie beneath her yellow raincoat read: _Strong Girls Club_.

“Whoa there, little one,” Mulder smiled down at her. “You okay?” 

She nodded, still staring.

“Lola!” came a voice from behind her, a concerned parent rushing up to scoop her away. “Are you okay, sir?” the man asked.

Mulder let go of the girl and straightened up just as Scully returned to his side, taking over the sporadic nudges to maintain Lily’s momentum. 

“Not the worst injury a tiny woman has inflicted upon me,” he shrugged, and behind him he heard Scully laugh, just once.

The girl’s father, who was not overly tall himself, kneeled down to get to her height, and inspected her briefly. “You okay, honey?” he asked. She nodded, then ran off just as fast as she’d arrived in the direction from which she’d come. 

“Lola, watch where you’re-” He cut himself off and sighed, turning back to Mulder. “I can’t keep up with her; I miss the days when she couldn’t walk.” 

Both men smiled, and finally locked eyes. A flash of recognition came over Mulder, synapses firing on all cylinders as he remembered the pudgy young man from across the fourth floor hallway all those years ago.

“Devin?” Mulder asked, visibly taken aback.

“Sm- Mulder! Oh my word I can’t believe it!” Lola’s now-familiar father beamed up at Mulder, reaching out to shake his hand and pumping it up and down with great gusto. “Hi!”

“Hi,” Mulder replied, laughing at the sheer energy of the handshake, which continued as Devin turned away.

“Kevin!” he yelled across the playground. “Get over here!” 

Mulder checked behind Devin to see Kevin, older, even more gray these days, but still recognizable, approaching. He was noticeably more casual than he’d ever been in the ’nineties, dressed in his Sunday-Dad attire, and struggling with a double stroller. A toddler napped in one reclined seat.

“Wow,” Devin exhaled forcefully, still firmly clasping Mulder’s palm.

“It’s good to see you guys,” Mulder offered. “You’re looking well.”

“You look fan- _tas-_ tic,” Devin enthused, just as Kevin arrived. “Hey look, Kev, it’s Agent Mulder.”

Kevin expressed his surprise and provided Mulder with an excuse to break contact with Devin’s slightly sticky palm by proferring his own.

“Well, not Agent anymore,” Mulder corrected. “More ‘Dada’ these days.” He gestured back towards Lily and put his arm around Scully’s shoulder. 

“You remember Scully,” he said, and she turned to smile at them, lifting one hand to keep the sun out of her eyes. “It’s my old neighbors from Hegal Place,” he reminded her. “Devin and Kevin.” 

She offered her spare hand in greeting. 

“Dana,” she added. “ _Dana_ Scully. We have met. A long time ago.”

Devin’s face morphed into a look of utter relief as he clutched her sheepskin-clad digits, as though he’d just been handed a missing puzzle piece he’d been searching for for years. “Dana Scully,” he parroted back with what sounded like awe.

He turned to Kevin. “Da-na Scu-lly,” he repeated, slowly, enunciating each syllable.

“Okay,” Kevin laughed, pushing past him lightly to offer his hand to her as well.

They all regarded one another: equal parts happy and awkward.

Lily loudly protested her deceleration, and Scully returned part of her attention to the task of pushing. 

“Who’s this, then?” Devin queried, watching the swing go back and forth, and Mulder waited for Scully to answer, fit to burst with pride.

“Lily,” she murmured, not taking her eyes off her babbling daughter. 

“How old is she?” Devin asked.

“Almost one,” Scully responded, looking across now, her own pride spilling over into a growing smile.

“And that was Lola?” Mulder asked, nodding over at the young girl, who was now clambering up the steps of a nearby slide. “She has a bright future ahead of her as a fullback,” he added, rubbing the side of his knee in jest.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, she’s a whirlwind.” Devin apologized. 

“No, no,” Mulder smiled. “She seems great. And this is….” He looked down at the sleeping bundle in the stroller.

“Carl,” Kevin answered. “He’s two.” He waved his arm over to a group of pre-teens kicking a soccer ball about. “Georgie’s eleven and… somewhere in that melee.” 

Mulder nodded, truly happy for these two men who had been nothing but good to him during their tenure as co-residents of 2630 Hegal Place. “You decided to do it in the end, then,” he said. “Adopt, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Kevin affirmed. “Took a few years, but it was worth the wait.”

Mulder looked down at Scully, still snug beneath his arm. Her focus had returned to keeping Lily at her preferred speed. She was radiant, a naturally affectionate caregiver, smiling and quietly saying “Hi!” in a high-pitched voice each time the swing came closest to her. Lily looked back at her mother with some intensity, grinning, her fists flailing about with blissful rapture.

“I know the feeling,” he said.

Kevin and Devin exchanged a glance.

“Hey,” Devin said, in an animated fashion. “We still have fish. I mean not little Speedo that you gave us, may he rest in peace, but… a few mollies, a couple bettas.”

Kevin shot Devin a look that Mulder couldn’t decipher. “Nice,” Mulder commented, pleased to have originated another aquatic menagerie. “Us too. Old habits die hard.”

A tennis ball rolled past outside the railings, and Daggoo strained on his leash, yapping, desperately trying to harpoon it with his eye teeth. 

“Adooo,” Lily cried out, pointing towards him with a stubby forefinger. Everybody was suitably charmed.

“That’s quite the age difference,” Kevin interjected jovially, “between the baby and your first one.”

Mulder felt rather than heard Scully inhale sharply next to him, and he squeezed her a little tighter. 

“Yeah,” he breathed, not wanting to get into it about William. Jackson. They saw him now and again. He’d met his sister. Everyone had scars, and no one was completely healed from the experience. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something. It was, in any case, all too complicated for this chance reunion. He nodded, and repeated himself quietly. “Yeah.”

They reached the natural plateau of such conversations, and Kevin tried to prise Devin away from the situation by giving a friendly wave and heading back to Lola, who was now in the sandbox on the other side of the playground. But Devin dug into his jeans pocket for a crumpled napkin, and halted Kevin to retrieve a ballpoint pen from some hidden compartment in the stroller. He scribbled their joint email address down and shoved it into Mulder’s hand.

“Keep in touch,” he said, closing Mulder’s hand around the paper. “Congratulations,” he whispered loudly, and winked.

***

Fastening Lola and Carl into their carseats half an hour later, Devin was still chattering away about the incredible coincidence of running into Sally -- no, _Scully_ \-- and Smolder at the park. He hoisted himself up into the passenger seat of their Hybrid SUV as Kevin pulled on his seatbelt.

“She looked gorgeous too, didn’t she look gorgeous?” he gushed. “The years have been more than kind to her, don’t you think? _God_ she has great skin. And what an adorable little girl.”

“Adorable, honey,” Kevin chuffed softly, amused by Devin’s renewed and evidently deep investment in this couple they hadn’t seen in almost twenty years.

“I gave him our email. I hope he emails. What if he doesn’t email? Oh wait I can probably look them up on Facebook.” Devin rattled on.

“Sure,” Kevin said, reaching over to grab Devin’s hand in an attempt to calm him. “Everyone okay in the back?” he checked.

“Yes, Daddy,” came two little voices in unison. Georgie appeared hypnotized by a scrolling screen. Kevin and Devin turned back to smile.

“Well, I think there’s rather a lot of adorable in this car right now,” Kevin said, holding up his phone for a selfie. “Everybody say ‘cheese’!”

They snapped the photo and Kevin tucked the phone back into his pocket, starting up the engine. As they drove through the parking lot, Mulder and Scully were visible, still pushing Lily on the swing, entwined in one another's' arms, gently swaying from side to side in subtle rhythm, keeping time with her movements. 

Kevin drove towards the exit, and Devin sighed. “I’m so glad everything worked out okay for those two.”

“Me too, honey,” Kevin said, reaching over to squeeze Devin’s hand once again. “Me too.”

As they rolled out onto the Virginia street, Devin sat up a little straighter in his seat and turned towards Kevin, who glanced at him curiously.

“Wait,” Devin started. “Did you notice… she said Dana _Scully_? Not _Mulder_. Do you think…. I wonder if they ever married?”

Kevin, who knew Devin more than well enough by now to realize he would grab onto any unsolved mystery where this couple was concerned like a dog with a bone, sensed they would be having this conversation for a long, long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for letting Kevin and Devin into your lives. We hope you had as much fun reading them as we did writing them. Any and all feedback is always appreciated!


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